Bound by Fate
by InspiredDitto
Summary: Bulma has been ripped from her home world to be sold as a slave to those from other worlds. Circumstances force a haunted Saiyan to intervene while questioning his own motivates for his actions. Will Bulma and Vegeta's fate be that of joy or of anguish? They are unknowingly bound to one another with futures intertwined by fate. A/U - Mature situations with violence.
1. Chapter 1

_I do not own Dragon Ball Z, its characters, settings, ideas or anything else that has creative origins in the story reflecting Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z or Dragon Ball GT. _

_This is my first attempt at a fanfiction, ever. The first few chapters will more than likely be short to start as I get my 'feet wet' and get the momentum moving in the story. I hope to add chapters frequently (at the least once a month) since unfinished stories annoy me to no end. I hope you enjoy what's been rattling around in my head for some time!_

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The cold metal cut sharply into her already chafed wrists. Muscles in her legs ached from sitting on the cold concrete. The chain holding her in place lay warm across the top of her thighs as it snaked to the ring embedded in the floor in front of her. The damp and clammy air was uncomfortable against her mostly bare skin. The only exception was the matching bra and panties she wore. The smell of blood, sweat and fear were pungent in the air. Sounds of sobs and hushed whimpering whispered through the large, cold room.

Her mind was trying to push back the panic that struggled to bubble to the surface. It took all of her will power to swallow down the bile in her throat, fearful that her future held only pain and suffering. Maybe, if she was lucky, the end would come swiftly for her. She would rather have the swift kiss of death then the hell she knew she was about to face at the hands of the strangers starting to circulate through the room.

She sat up a little straighter to give herself courage. She didn't want to cower in fear or cry over the uncertainty of her future. She would not allow her handlers that kind of satisfaction. She swore silently that she would have a steal spine and her spirit would not be broken.

The women around her radiated the fear that she was trying to keep from overcoming herself. They were in a large, spacious room in the bowels of an old building. The location was unclear due to the precautions taken to smuggle the handlers' precious cargo to and from the auction. The women were not only blindfolded during transport, but bound and gagged to ensure no escape or suspicion brought to the cramped containers they were held in between auction locations.

The only thing each woman knew for sure was that they were going to be auctioned off on the black market as slaves. Slaves were meant to be played with by those with grotesque, condemnable fetishes. These men, _monsters_, had a large demand for their 'toys' because a number of them didn't know how to play nice. These men frequently broke their 'toys', which gave them the need to purchase new merchandise.

"Right this way, sir." An oily voice spoke above the sounds of quiet despair. "As you can see, we have acquired a number of women from the planet known as Earth. The women from Earth can satisfy most preferences for those wanting something a little more exotic. A relatively new planet that was discovered guarantees their rarity. This ensures you have a valuable item to add to your…collection"

The man who spoke was dressed in a dark gray suit. His orange hair was slicked back against his yellow skin. His face was as greasy as his voice. She knew the man as Master Hearken. He was the orchestrator of this event. A noticeable shiver ran down her spine. She was thankful Master Hearken was not currently near her. The….things….he did to test out the 'merchandise' made her want to retch. It was guaranteed that the way he examined her when she was first cataloged to be included into the auctions would haunt her for years to come.

"It is my impression that these Earth women have a lot of potential for the members of our fleet." responded Hearken's guest

Her attention was drawn to the harmonically male voice that was speaking with her captor. As much as she didn't want to look in their direction, that voice was like a distant harpy calling out to all within earshot. A tall, beautiful gentleman followed alongside Hearken. Emerald green hair fell in impossible splendor around a pale blue face. Chiseled muscles on a perfect frame moved effortlessly forward as regal armor and cape finished off his appearance. His looks proved to be as deadly as his voice.

"Sir Zarbon, we would be more than happy to work out a deal if you decide to invest in a large quantity of our merchandise." Hearken explained. "I will leave you with our offerings and check back with you shortly to see how you would like to move forward." With that, Hearken gracefully bowed and went to check on the other buyers that were filtering through the room.

Intelligent amber eyes scanned the room as he searched for potential slaves to purchase. She didn't realize that she was staring until the alien named Zarbon locked eyes with her. Panicked and secretly cursing herself, she quickly cast her gaze downward towards the floor. Wringing her hands nervously as she hoped he didn't take notice to her.

Dread filled her as she watched a shadow crawl across the floor and washed over her. A pair of tan boots entered her field of vision as she stared down at the floor in front of her. She willed herself to stay still as Zarbon looked over the information hung on the wall behind her. There was something about his demeanor that warned her that nothing good could come from this alien referred to as Zarbon. He reminded her of the old adage of a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"Bulma is it?" Zarbon asked in a soft voice. She didn't respond. She heard a faint sigh as Zarbon came down on one knee in front of her. With a gentle touch under her chin, he guided her head upwards as his eyes held hers. "Bulma," he tried softly again, "is what they call you on Earth?"

Bulma's eyes widened as she heard herself respond to his question despite her efforts to keep silent. "Yes sir." She could feel her cheeks heat with embarrassment as he lifted an eyebrow while he studied her. "My name…my name is Bulma…sir." She stammered out.

She was rewarded with a smirk laced with ego at her response. Bulma instantly knew that this man was rarely denied what he wanted. It was hidden in that smirk. Fear and anger flashed in her eyes. Her intuitive thought made her panic and she began to pull her chin away from his grasp. Pain shot along her jaw as she felt his grip tighten like a vice. This made her panic even more as she tried to wrench her face from his grasp.

"Now dear, sweet Bulma," he cooed. "What ever seems to be the problem? Do you not enjoy a man appreciating your company?" Something flashed in Zarbon's eyes that made Bulma instantly freeze. She wanted desperately for him to leave her alone. The fact that he was entertaining a conversation with her was an indicator of the next unwilling step in her journey of discovering life off of planet Earth.

Bulma knew she would no longer need to fear the next monster to eye her up, touch her inappropriately or describe the gruesome ways that she was going to be used for pleasure. She was in Zarbon's crosshairs. The confident way he carried himself and that smirk that he flashed said it all. Zarbon always gets what he wants…it was obvious he wanted her.

"Pardon me while I go to speak with Master Hearken. I do believe I have a list to prepare with him." He stated as he released her chin. Without another word he swiftly stood and walked in the direction Hearken had gone.

Bulma's head dropped as silent tears started falling from her eyes. She held her shoulders still so as not to show the sobs she was struggling to keep under control. The only thing she was thankful of was her long blue hair that fell on either side of her face to shield her tears from the now busy room.

She knew she would soon be free from the auctioneers. The cost of such freedom was more than what she was willing to give.


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Dragon Ball Z.

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_A blinding light flashed as screams erupted through the lab. Chunks of rubble tumbled around Bulma as smoke burned her lungs. She looked around in a panic to see how many of her comrades had fallen from the blast. Her mind raced as she tried to understand what, exactly, had exploded. No experiments were currently running. The gaping hole in the wall didn't make any sense. She shook her head as her ears rang from the intense noise. _

_Figures appeared through the smoke and were quickly followed by others. Odd creatures in battle armor overtook the room. They were grabbing the bodies of those strewn about. Some were dead, others withering in pain from injuries. They were being carried out of the room through the makeshift entranceway made by the odd life-forms. Bulma had been knocked back to the other side of the room by the force of the blast. They were quickly approaching her area._

_Bulma crawled under the desk that was next to her to try and hide as she gathered her thoughts. The ringing in her ears intensified, causing her vision to blur. She looked at the person who lay nearest to her. He lay eerily still with no indication of life. Bulma blinked a few times as her brain sluggishly tried to process who lay lifelessly on the floor. A large piece of rebar protruded from the figure's chest as a liquid pool of scarlet gathered underneath._

"_Yamcha!" she cried out. A rustling noise near her sent a wave of dread to her core. The hands she pressed against her mouth to stifle the hysterics she felt rising were too little too late. In her moment of shock Bulma realized she just made a grave mistake by loudly making her location known. The rustling quickly drew closer. Within seconds she felt a hand grab her hair as she was painfully yanked from her hiding spot._

"_Well what do we have here?" the creature drawled as he dragged her into a standing position. "Ah, yes. This one will do nicely."_

_Bulma's eyes swept over Yamcha's body as she tried to avoid her captor's face. She silently willed Yamcha to get up. She was praying to the gods that the metal sticking out of his chest was a hallucination from shock. She kicked out and screamed at her attacker who held her tightly by the hair. She felt another pair of hands grab onto her arms in an attempt to still her efforts to get away. Her vision blurred further as her lab started to slip away from sight. She screamed at the top of her lungs as she felt herself being lifted and shaken._

"_Bulma!" yelled out a voice. "Bulma! Stop!" _

Amisty shook Bulma a second time as she tried to rouse Bulma from another nightmare.

Her eyes fluttered open. Amisty brushed the sweat-drenched hair away from Bulma's face. She gave Bulma a reassuring smile as the remnants of her nightmare faded away. Unfocused eyes searched the air as she regained a sense of her surroundings. A smile of recognition crossed her face.

"Thanks for waking me up." Bulma said. Her breathing was starting to slow as her mind cleared. _Just a dream_ she thought to herself as she sat up.

"You know, if you keep thrashing around and screaming at night then I may have to take matters into my own hands just so I can get some sleep!" Amisty teased with a wink. "Calm your mind and get some sleep. We're being prepared for tomorrow's transport. You know what happens to the girls that are rejected."

She stared at her friend for a long moment before she replied. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Sorry I woke you up. I didn't mean to."

Amisty patted her friend's shoulder as she gave her a sympathetic look. "Get some rest, friend. We have a big day tomorrow." She rose from the bed and settled herself under her own sheets.

Bulma laid down and stared at the ceiling. Although the auction was a week ago, the arrangements for the slaves to be delivered to their new masters were finishing up tomorrow. She needed sleep but her mind would not let her rest.

She couldn't shake the ghost of her nightmare from reliving the moments before her capture by the squadron that broke into her labs. Yamcha's death was heavy on her mind. She never had the chance to say goodbye… to grieve the loss of her best friend and lover. She shivered in the darkness as she remembered the invasion of Earth.

There were reports on the news that hostile forces were entering Earth's atmosphere. It was urged that all citizens take cover and to protect themselves. She was in her lab trying to hack the invader's systems. It wasn't the first time Earth was visited by guests from another world but it was the first time someone had entered Earth's atmosphere undetected.

Bulma couldn't get a read on the invader's signal to get control of their ships' communication feeds to stall their descent. She remembered yelling at the employees and researchers in the lab to run home to be with their families. She never knew her efforts to gain access to the aliens' electronics put a giant bulls-eye on her lab until after her capture. The following explosion and panic that ensued shortly after her attempts were in response to her meddling. The invaders detected her efforts into their system and identified it as a direct threat to their operations. They promptly responded. Capsule Corporation was the first location on Earth to be attacked.

Bulma sat up again as she recalled that the only reason Yamcha was dead was because of her. Moments before she left her house to go to the lab, Yamcha begged her to go into the underground shelter with him. He wanted to keep her safe until the invasion was over and they could form a plan of action together. Bulma wouldn't hear any of it and ran to the lab despite his pleas. He followed her there to try and protect her. The explosion sent concrete and shrapnel in all directions. Yamcha didn't even realize he was hit as his body slammed against the floor. He was killed instantly from the metal rebar that ripped into his chest. All because of her.

Bulma glanced out of the tiny window across from her bed. She hated herself for not listening to Yamcha. She knew she was responsible for his death. For all of their deaths. It was worse knowing that those who were taken alive would never be free because of her.

Bulma found out from Master Hearken during one of her training sessions that the men captured were killed. The women taken and deemed fit for auction were in slave training similar to hers. Those that could not conform to the training were given to Master Hearken's workers to do with them what they chose. Bulma knew that they were raped and tortured until they lost the will to live. Their lives did not end peacefully…or quickly.

She closed her eyes as she forced the nausea to pass. Her final moments on Earth replayed frequently in her nightmares. The despair, shock and loss she felt would not allow her to relax into sleep. If it wasn't for Amisty, Bulma would have gone insane by now.

Master Hearken took it upon himself to be personally in charge of Bulma's training. The first time she met Master Hearken was one of the most horrendous experiences of her life. Bulma didn't know who this Hearken person was at first. She was brought to his quarters shortly after arriving on the ship. He had introduced himself as 'Master Hearken' to her and told her to kneel before him. Her mind drifted as she recalled their first encounter...

"Kneel? In front of _you_?" Bulma stared at the orange haired alien standing across from her in utter disbelief. "Who the hell do you think you are telling me to get on the ground like an animal! Didn't you mother ever teach you anything about how to treat a lady?"

Master Hearken quietly gazed at his new guest with calm composure. He sized up this slim yet curvy ball of bold courage that stood before him. He knew that a fiery spirit such as hers would fetch a quite a large sum from one of his clients. Hearken was almost considering keeping this blue eyed, blue haired beauty for his own personal harem. She would be fun to break. To watch as her spirited fire turned to ash by his hand.

Lord Frieza sent the request for Hearken to obtain exotic women for the use of his soldiers. Hearken knew that the woman staring defiantly at him was exactly what Frieza had in mind. She would be worth a small fortune to those looking for a challenge. Hearken enjoyed collecting women, but resources were starting to get tight again. His organization needed the payout.

Hearken approached the young woman who was staring venomously at him from across the room. "Are you even listening to me or is that yellow skin showing what kind of a coward you really are? Too scared to answer my questions?" she spat.

With arms folded behind his back, he stepped right in front of her. "My dear, I will only ask you once more. It will be in your best interest to kneel before me."

"You can take your request and shove it up your big yellow ass!" She retorted to the figure towering over her. She barely closed her mouth when she felt a searing pain across her right cheek. Her head snapped to the side as she collapsed onto the floor.

Bulma's hands were splayed out on the ground before her to stop her head from hitting the carpet. She involuntarily covered the throbbing pain on her face as she rocked back on her legs into a kneeling position. She looked up at Hearken with shock and confusion. She didn't realize she had assumed the position he had requested from her.

Hearken looked down at the woman with a hard stare. "I would advise you to listen when you are requested to perform an action. Things will go much smoother for you. You are to assume a kneeling position whenever you are in the presence of a handler or your master."

Bulma's eyes flashed in anger as it dawned on her that she was kneeling on the floor. With a snort of defiance, she began to rise. Within an instant she was forcefully knocked back onto the ground.

"Believe me when I say my patience will far outlast that pretty skin protecting your face." Hearken stated flatly. "Again, you are to stay in a kneeling position until otherwise directed. You are to refer to all handlers as 'sir'. My name to you is Master Hearken and I expect to be addressed as such. Do you understand?"

Bulma stared up at Him. She no longer held her face in her hands. An ugly bluish purple bruise was beginning to spread across her right cheek where she was slapped twice. Some would think such a mark to be appalling. Instead, Hearken found the bruising to be an appealing mark of his craftsmanship and self-control. He could have easily broken her neck with one carefully placed blow.

Hearken began to raise his hand threateningly from Bulma's lack of response to his question. He knew that the only way to wear her down was to be ruthlessly consistent. Her attractiveness, defiance and now the marking on her face laid by his hand was an arousing sight. The fearful stare he received from his raised hand was almost intoxicating. Yes, she would most definitely fetch a large sum.

"Do you understand?" Hearken repeated with an edge of threat in his voice.

Bulma bowed her head in shame as she was being forced to submit to his will. As much turmoil it caused her to do as he demanded, her self-preservation kicked in as she answered him.

"Yes."

Bulma felt silence surround her. She chanced a look upwards to see why Master Hearken did not respond. It took a moment for her to realize what he was waiting for. Through gritted teeth, she tried again. "Yes, Master Hearken _sir._"

She watched him slowly lower his arm to clasp his other hand behind his back. She let out a small sigh of relief as he walked towards the door. She was almost sure she was going to be struck again for not holding back the sarcasm laced in her voice while addressing him properly. Either he didn't notice, which was impossible with how she said it, or he had chosen to ignore it. A soft, almost inaudible, _click_ at the door caught her attention. All of the blood rushed from her face as she recognized the familiar sound. Master Hearken had locked them in the room. Her chest tightened as her breathing became strained with uncertainty.

Hearken turned and began to circle the kneeling woman like a falcon about to dive for its prey. Bulma was visibly tense as uneasiness radiated from her. He didn't have to lock the door to ensure their privacy. He knew full well that no soul would dare enter his quarters unwelcome and uninvited. He also knew that despite Bulma's obvious tenacity, she would be unable to escape him regardless of her best efforts. Hearken enjoyed the heart-racing reaction it gave to those in her position. Arousal coursed through him as the vixen knelt before him.

"Now, my dear," Hearken's voice filled with danger and lust. "Let's see where, exactly, you will fit in our slave auctions, shall we? Are you one that can take the pain with strength and dignity or will it be only a matter of minutes before you're begging for me to stop? I'm curious as to how loud a lovely creature from Earth, such as yourself, can scream. I'm sure you will not disappoint my expectations…"

Fear and disparity ripped through her as she felt Master Hearken draw closer. All she could do was pray to pass out from the agony that he had promised…

A quiet snore jarred Bulma from her thoughts. She blinked a few times as the wisps of memory from her torture cleared. She didn't realize that she was painfully squeezing her hands closed. Opening them up slowly, she winced at the discomfort from where her nails dug into her flesh from clasping them so hard. She looked over towards her friend.

She smiled sweetly in the direction of her friend's peaceful snoring. It was Amisty who peeled Bulma off of the floor after that first evening.

Amisty was sent into Master Hearken's room shortly after he was done experimenting on Bulma. He didn't stay to make sure that she was alright. Instead he ordered her off to another slave to take care of her. She didn't remember Amisty taking her into the hospital wing of the ship. By the time she was retrieved, Bulma had long passed out from the pain Master Hearken had inflicted. Bulma knew she remained awake for several hours before the sweet waves of nothingness finally crashed over her. Later she was told by Amisty that she slept for close to sixteen hours before she started to show signs of consciousness.

Amisty was there from the moment Bulma woke to tend to her wounds until long after she was fully healed. Weeks blended together into months. Amisty was always there for her to help heal, guide and laugh with her when there was need. Bulma lost track of how long she had been held captive. She did know, however, that she would have lost the will to live a while ago if it wasn't for Amisty's friendship.

Her mind finally exhausted, she decided to try and settle down for another attempt at sleep. Amisty was right. They had a full morning of preparations before they were to be delivered to their new masters. She wanted to make a good impression for herself tomorrow. It was either that or be a permanent slave to Master Hearken, who saw a rejected slave as a personal attack to his ego. She decided a new surrounding would be the lesser of the two evils.

As the lids of her eyes drew heavy, she made a silent plea to the gods to allow her the strength to get through tomorrow. She barely finished her thought before drifting to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

_I don't know what is going on with my document manager, but the breaks that I inserted into this chapter and chapter 4 isn't showing up. If there seems like a big 'jump' in the story, like a video edit that went all wrong, there was supposed to be a line break to help with the flow of the story. As soon as I can figure out what I'm doing wrong, it will be fixed. Until then, Enjoy! Oh yeah, I don't own DBZ by the way ;-) _

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Laughter erupted from Amisty as she watched Bulma twirl around the center of the dressing room. Transparent purple, silver and green chiffon scarves drifted outward from a band worn around Bulma's waist as she spun. A squeak sounded from her as Bulma lost her balance and landed on the floor. The girls looked at each other and paused briefly before doubling over in laughter again.

"You seriously need to stop." Amisty said as she was wiping tears from her face. "Do you know how long it took to put my makeup on? I can't sit through that a second time if it gets ruined. I'd rather have a lesson on discipline from Master Hearken!"

Bulma sat on the floor trying to get control of herself. Her arms were wrapped around her sides to try and stop the aching from laughter. "I can't stop!" She said between giggles. "I can just imagine Master Hearken trying to use makeup as a discipline tool. Could you imagine it? What would he do? Put lipstick on your teeth and not tell you?"

For the first time in what seemed like an eternity Bulma felt like herself. She stood up and walked to one of the mirrors to finger-comb her hair back into place. Flushed pink cheeks and crystal blue eyes that shone bright with amusement looked back at her. Cobalt colored hair cascaded in waves as it fell to the middle of her back. Bulma still couldn't believe the stranger in the mirror staring back was her own reflection. The last time she had a pampered day to herself was with her friends back home.

"Okay, okay I'm done," Bulma flashed a teasing smile at her friend. "For now at least. It's just nice to be pampered. Massage, waxing, makeup and hair styled? Yes please!"

Amisty returned Bulma's smile. She was glad to see her friend so carefree for a change. Master Hearken was exceptionally hard on Bulma. When he took her to practice how a slave was to act properly, she normally returned with an alarming amount of bruising and gashes all over from being punished for something she said or did to intentionally get under his skin. Amisty would always give the same lecture as she tended to Bulma's wounds.

"_Stop smarting off to him already." _Amisty would recite. _"If you keep taunting him then one of these days you're not going to have anything left to heal!"_ Each time it would be the same lecture. Each time Bulma would quietly grumble and refuse to listen.

"Do you think where we are going will be nice? I mean, do you think the people there will be anything like Master Hearken?" Bulma asked as she adjusted her purple bralette top and the chiffon skirt.

Amisty leaned down to pick a nonexistent piece of lint from the hem of her orange skirt to avoid looking at Bulma. "I'm not sure. I'd hope they would be more lenient." The shift of topic made the room feel smaller. Amisty was trying to protect her friend from the monsters they were about to encounter but she was torn between what she should do. Telling Bulma the truth might cause a retaliation that would get them both killed. Not telling Bulma would set her up to mouth off to the wrong person and be killed for her insolence.

Bulma turned and crossed the room to sit next to Amisty. "What do you mean you're not sure? You've taught me more about the worlds and people who inhabit them then I could ever have dreamt existed! Master Hearken made it pretty clear that this Frieza guy is high up on the food chain. If that's the case, I would assume you know who he is?"

Amisty was surprised by irony in Bulma's comment. She was quiet for a long moment before she looked at her friend. "Food chain is one of the best and worst ways to describe him."

A sad smile crossed Amisty's face as she tried to ignore Bulma's utterly confused look. She shifted herself so she could clasp Bulma's hands in hers. She wanted to avoid this conversation all together but it truly was going to be now or never. The creative ways Bulma tried to defy Master Hearken were tolerated because Bulma's purpose was to be sold for a profit. She was of value to Master Hearken. If she was Master Hearken's personal slave, he would've put a stop to her antics long ago. Not to say that there were times when Bulma's injuries proved that his patience of her wit was reaching its end. Instead he restrained himself to make sure she would be sell-able to whichever buyer he had in mind for her. Amisty knew Bulma played a dangerous game. Where they were going the game would abruptly end for her.

Amisty decided that Bulma should probably know who, mostly, Lord Frieza was.

"Bulma, I'll tell you about where we're going but you have to promise me, and I mean _promise_ me that you will take what I have to say to heart. After we leave this room, I can't protect you anymore. If you don't listen to me then I doubt you will survive your first week. Do you understand?"

The warm laughter and fun that surrounded them had chilled. Bulma looked at Amisty as she pleaded with her in earnest. She nodded and squeezed Amisty's hands in confirmation. Amisty returned the squeeze and drew in a deep breath.

"Lord Frieze has built an empire from invading planets and selling off their resources. He wipes out populations, annihilates galaxies and controls a large portion of the universe. He is a tyrant. He is smart. He is strong. He is powerful. He murders for fun. He is evil in its most tangible form."

She paused.

"From what I've been able to find out, Lord Frieza has placed an order from Master Hearken for us, as well as for a few others that Master Hearken had available that were of interest to Zarbon. That's why we were never auctioned off at the last place. A reserve was placed on us so we would not be sold. That's why Zarbon was at the auction. He was there to finalize the purchase. Zarbon is one of Lord Frieza's confidants, as is a Saiyan that is as diabolical as he is. It's been rumored that Lord Frieza sometimes arranges rewards for his soldiers after their journeys. As far as I can tell, we are his gift is to them. If you cannot stop smarting off, I am sure he, or they, will kill you."

...

Hearken opened the door to greet his guests for the evening. Zarbon, who Hearken had met at last week's auction, lead the entourage. He was followed by an odd reptile-like creature with pink, purple and white features. Scaly muscles bulged from his smaller frame. His thick, ugly pink tail waved in bored amusement as he confidently strode behind Zarbon. Last in line was a Saiyan whose forehead barely came up to Zarbon's shoulders. His hair stood up as if frozen in a state of shock. He had his arms crossed and his face plastered in a scowl. His body was sculpted into a formation that would make a roman warrior proud.

All three figures walked with a loud confidence that caused the hairs on the back of Hearken's neck to rise. He greeted the trio with a low, dramatic bow. "Welcome to my facility, gentlemen. I'm glad to see your travels were safe. We have a lovely grouping of merchandise for you to look over before we finish our transaction."

Zarbon stepped forward and gestured to the whitish pink figure behind him. "I am pleased to introduce you to Lord Frieza. He is looking forward to seeing the selection I have chosen for his ship."

"Then, gentleman," Hearken stepped inside of the doorway to allow the three men enough room to pass by. "Please come in."

...

Vegeta sat back in a maroon chair as velvet fabric brushed against the tail tucked carefully around his waist. He placed both elbows on the arm rests and peaked his fingertips together directly under his nose. He wanted nothing to do with escorting Frieza on such a time wasting trip. It was bad enough Frieza knew how much he hated being away from battle, but to use this errand as punishment for blowing up a planet acquired by the World Trade Federation was torture. It wasn't his fault the inhabitants decided to fight for their worthless lives. He blew up their planet to prove a point. Frieza was furious that he let his anger get the best of him.

Resigned to trying to make an attempt at enjoying the evening, Vegeta took in his surroundings. Zarbon and Frieza were sitting in chairs identical to his which were placed along the perimeter of the room forming a triangle. Hearken sat next to Frieza as they discussed business. The room was nicely lit by a large chandelier hanging from an extensive ceiling in the center of the room. Gentle guitar music drifted quietly from somewhere in the room. His precise hearing could identify it coming from expertly crafted statue-like speakers resembling various female forms from across the galaxy.

Three women walked around with platters of hors d'oeuvres. Two walked around serving refreshments. Another quietly knelt on the floor just in eyesight of the guests to fulfill any requests they might have. All were dressed in seductively transparent skirts and bra-like tops to show off their features. There was a nice blend of women from Nizaria, Earth and one from Arlia, the planet Vegeta had just recently destroyed.

The woman closest to him was attractive enough. Her pale purple skin had an undertone of luminescence, making it look like her skin glowed from within. Her white hair fell strait until it stopped just under her chin. She was tall and thin while holding herself with delicate elegance. Her features were as soft as her voice as she asked the others if they wanted refills for their drinks. The only thing that seemed out of place was the worried glance she kept giving the human kneeling on the floor. It caught his attention enough to take a second look at the blue haired human.

Her hair cascaded around her and hid most of her frame. Her head was down in such a way as to allow her to peer through her eyelashes to see anyone requesting her for service. At first she appeared to sit perfectly still. As he studied her he noticed subtle shifts of weight that were telltale signs of discomfort. He glanced at the purple skinned woman again with a bit more understanding.

_Obviously the human is not well trained. The woman from Nizaria must be worried about the ramifications from an Earthling's incompetence. Pathetic. _Vegeta thought to himself.

"Girl," He called out as he gestured for the human to rise and approach him.

The woman physically winced at his gesture then started to stand. She didn't realize her foot was stepping on one of the scarves from skirt, almost pulling the waistband off of her hips as she rose. Vegeta heard her whisper a muttered curse under her breath as she hastily fixed her clothing while walking over to him.

She was curvy, but thin. She looked like she hadn't been eating well. Some of her skin looked like it had lost its elasticity where strong muscles once were. Her eyes were a clear vibrant blue with long eyelashes to frame their flattering almond shape. He was surprised as he noticed the pink scars and faded bruising around her wrists. He looked her over more thoroughly and found an alarming number of scars on her arms.

Aside from the marks on her skin, the human was a true treat for the eyes. Vegeta let out an inaudible breath of appreciation as the beauty gracefully knelt at his feet, peering up at him from beneath her long lashes. He lowered his peaked hands to clasp them in his lap.

"What is your name, girl?" Vegeta asked sharply.

"Bumla from planet Earth, sir." The woman automatically responded. She held her breath as she awaited his orders.

"I see…" He said more to himself then to her. He glanced over at the other men in the room. Frieza and Hearken were deep in conversation. Even though Zarbon appeared to be absorbed in Frieza's conversation, the woman's movements caught a flicker of Zarbon's attention.

Vegeta sat up a bit straighter. He wanted to have a bit of fun toying with her.

"Do you have any special _talents_ girl?" He asked. He watched the tension move through her shoulders as his tactfully worded question registered. He saw a mild pinking begin to spread over her cheeks. He held his face stone still. She was so absorbed in trying to process what he had asked while holding her own self-control in check that she missed the amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Um…talents sir?" She finally asked. "May I ask what kind of…talents…you are requesting of me?"

Vegeta allowed himself a quiet chuckle. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees to bring himself closer to the woman. She instinctively tried to shrink away from him.

"Be still!" Vegeta snapped. She froze in place instantly. "As to clarify 'talents', what I am implying is something along the lines of singing, dancing, cooking. Any of those ring a bell?"

Her body relaxed a bit as she understood. "Dancing, sir. Back home I loved to dance."

"Alright then. I wish for you to dance for me as you did on your planet Earth." Vegeta sat back to watch her reaction. Much to his surprise, she stood up enthusiastically to his request. Most of the attention in the room was now on him and the woman. Hearken hailed the Nizarian woman. She nodded quickly and left the room. Within moments the music in the room changed to a sad, seductive tune.

...

Bulma stood in the center of the room with her back to the man who had asked her to dance. She began to sway to the beat of the music. Lifting her arms, she twirled as she found her rhythm. The scarves around her waist playfully flitted upwards offering flashes of bare skin through the transparent coverings. Her hips gyrated to the beat as she held some of the scarves and whirled them around her flirtatiously. She moved across the floor and started to bend side to side as the music took her higher.

She felt free for the first time since her arrival to Master Hearken. The way her heart was pumping from pushing her arms and legs to move in ways they had almost forgotten made her feel alive again. The sound of the strange music filled her soul with peace and happiness as she twirled about. She was becoming short of breath since it was so long since she danced, but she pushed through it to let herself feel free for a few moments longer.

As the song gave the last few chords signaling its end, Bulma found herself finishing her dance by kneeling in front of the strange-haired man with her chest and arms stretched against the floor. For a brief moment, she had forgotten about everyone in the room. When she was dancing, nothing else mattered. Now she felt all eyes, including the other women, on her.

Slowly sitting up to catch her breath she felt her face was flushed with both excitement and embarrassment. She placed the palm of her hands on her thighs, bowing her head as she was taught by Master Hearken. Silence surrounded her. Even the music stopped playing. She squeezed her eyes closed so she wouldn't give in to the urge to look around. She was trying to focus on the warning Amisty had given her earlier to stop from the urge to flee and hide from all of the attention.

"Very nice!" a melodic voice exclaimed. She recognized it as Zarbon's. "I can see why she had such a hefty price tag."

Bulma snuck a glance upward at the man sitting in front of her. He was looking at her with contemplation. His face didn't look like it changed expressions, but there was something about him now that seemed different. She didn't know why he looked upset but she felt a pull towards him. For some odd reason, she had a stupid compulsion to kneel next to him and lay her head against his thigh.

"Bulma, get myself and Lord Frieza a drink." Master Hearken ordered. "Two Seven and Sevens."

She rose from the floor and turned away from the silent man she was facing. As she walked away from him she realized she was secretly grateful for the distance Master Hearken had placed between them.


	4. Chapter 4

_I do not own DBZ_

* * *

Bulma approached Hearken and Frieza with a tray holding their drinks. As she drew closer she overheard their conversation.

"I am pleased with the slaves Zarbon and you have selected." Frieza said to Hearken. "The two women, Bulma and Amisty I believe? Fine specimens from their planets. They will be extremely popular with my men. Possibly some of the women, too, I do believe."

She stopped suddenly in front of the two men. Her mouth was open in disbelief as she stared at them.

"_Men_? And women?" Bulma questioned loudly. "As in plural?" She was so dumbfounded by the fact that she would have to answer to more than just one person that she didn't even realize she had spoken out loud.

"Silence slave!" Master Hearken snarled as he stood up from his chair.

The harshness in his tone startled her. She started to back away from them. In her haste she stepped on her skirt and fell backwards. The drinks she had on the tray flew into the air. One of the glasses made a loud shattering noise as it hit where the crimson carpet met the dark hardwood floor. She cringed as she waited for the second glass to hit the ground.

It never came.

Slowly, Bulma turned around to look in the direction the first glass shattered. All of the color drained from her face as she looked at Zarbon. He sat in his chair, the glass in his lap and the remnants of the drink dripping from his face and chest. Bulma silently wished the floor would open up beneath her and swallow her whole. She was mortified.

The Arlian woman rushed over to Zarbon and knelt on the ground in front of him. She extended her arms out with her head bowed offering him a towel. He snatched it from her hands and growled a dismissal. She scurried away as he began to wipe himself off. Bulma sat frozen in fear on the floor.

Frieza looked amused at the situation. He joyfully turned to Hearken.

"Master Hearken," Frieza said. "Would it be possible for Zarbon to give this _slave_ a reminder about competency and respect towards her new Masters?"

Hearken looked at him in shock. He was expecting Frieza to demand money back or to abandon the sale all together. Hearken was taken aback at the sudden interest for a show.

"It would be my pleasure." Hearken responded. "I'm sure it would do her good to fully understand the consequences of disrespect and clumsiness."

Hearken nodded his permission to Zarbon.

Zarbon stood as he threw the towel on the chair behind him. He stalked over to Bulma and fisted his hand into her hair. He pulled up and yanked her from the floor. She yelled out in protest as she rose up on tiptoe to try and stop the painful sensation. She attempted to swat his grip away but was quickly subdued when he used his other hand to take her wrists into his grasp. His bone-crushing grip tightened around her wrists as he dragged her to the center of the room.

Bulma looked around in a panic. Amisty had her hands up to her face in total shock at the swift brutality Zarbon showed. Hearken sat with an angry dark shadow across his face. Frieza looked amused as he watched the antics play out in front of him. She didn't know what to do. She was at the complete mercy of Zarbon. In a panic, she tried to struggle free.

The loud click of metal cuffs around her wrists made her stop her thrashing. He pulled her hands above her head and attached a clasp to them from a metal chain hanging down alongside the chandelier. Letting her hair and hands go he knelt down beside her. She felt cold metal encircle her ankles as the same clicking noise resonated in her ears. She tried to move her legs and couldn't. She realized that her ankles were shackled to hidden rings in the floor.

Zarbon stepped somewhere behind her as he left her field of vision. She stood alone facing the strange-haired man that she had danced for.

A burning pain ripped across her back and pulled her from her panic. Her eyes opened wide in shock as she fell forward and hung from the cuffs. The surprise of pain took her off guard. She didn't even have the ability to yell out. Her hands twisted around the metal chain above as she tried to stop her weight from forcing the cuffs to bite into her skin. She felt a warm liquid trickling down her spine.

Zarbon stepped beside her with a short whip in his hand. His glare radiated enough anger to distract her from the pain blossoming across her back.

"You are to learn your place if you wish to have anything that resembles a pleasant existence with us." Zarbon said.

Bulma glared back at him. The pampered morning and her dancing ignited something inside of her that she though was long dead.

"I'm starting to wonder what your definition of a pleasant existence is." She retorted.

Zarbon's eyes narrowed and he disappeared behind her. Within a heartbeat she felt the same ripping pain in a different area of her back. She bit her lip to force herself to not cry out.

Zarbon appeared again to study her.

"Trust me, slave, you have no idea what kind of hell we can put you in to make sure you understand just how grateful you should be." Zarbon's lips were pressed in a flat line as he waited for his words to sink in. "I expect you to respect those that control your fate. Your clumsiness and attitude will not be tolerated. Do you understand?"

Bulma looked at Zarbon. Her helplessness and his arrogance made her so furious that she could not stop the words from leaving her mouth.

"Go fuck yourself."

Zarbon was quiet for a long moment as he looked at her. The arm holding the whip twitched as he tried to maintain control. He stepped in front of her. Reaching out, he fisted the hair on the back of her head and twisted her head to look up at him. Having him this close made her realize just how powerful he was. She swallowed hard as she realized that she pushed him too far.

"You try my patience, slave." His words were quiet. "I will give you a taste of what you'll come to expect when your mouth decides to work more than your brain."

He released her hair and disappeared behind her a third time. This time she knew what to expect. She braced herself against her bindings.

Nothing happened.

She stood waiting, but nothing happened. Her curiosity started to get to her and she tried to look behind her.

She screamed as pain sliced across her shoulders. She was off balance from trying to turn. Falling forward again, she was violently stopped by the cuffs and chain. Her feet couldn't move to help her stand back up. Her wrists were on fire. Without a chance to recover from the first blow, a second one followed.

She hung her head in shame as sobs started to well up inside her. She realized that Zarbon was reading her body language to calculate when his strikes were going to be the most painful. He knew when she wasn't expecting the pain. The predictability she normally relied on with Master Hearken's discipline is what kept her alive. Knowing that there was no way for her to pace the blows made her understand her grave mistake. Zarbon now terrified her and he wouldn't stop until he was satisfied.

...

Vegeta's irritation grew as he watched the scene play out before him. The woman stood immobile with arms chained above her in the center of the room. The smile on Zarbon's face as he carried out the punishment was unnerving. Frieza looked happily amused with the stripes being placed on her back. Hearken looked furiously at the woman. Vegeta knew Hearken was angry at her actions putingt her in this position in the first place. The slaves stared in disbelief at the two in the center of the room. All but one, the Nizarian woman who had turned away with eyes squeezed shut.

Another scream resounded as Zarbon found a new place to hit on her skin. The sound of it was not as frantic as the last ones. He could tell the beating was starting to exhaust her. Blood snaked down her arms from ripped skin around her wrists. Deep shadows of red splattered around her feet on the crimson carpet. Her head was down and her eyes closed. Vegeta knew Zarbon needed to stop before he killed her but the look on Zarbon's face showed he was too absorbed in his own enjoyment to bother paying attention.

The woman picked her head up and looked around. Her eyes wandered as she tried to focus on something. She looked in his direction and the fog she was fighting through seemed to clear. With pleading, tear-stained eyes, she stared directly at him.

His breath caught as he watched the pain and turmoil cross her face as Zarbon made another mark. There was something about her look of helplessness that moved him. He was disgusted at Zarbon's carelessness. Vegeta could tell the woman could not take much more. All of his protectiveness came out as he watched her starting to slip away.

"Enough!" He bellowed.

Zarbon's head snapped up as he looked at Vegeta in shock.

"Excuse me?" Zarbon retorted.

The entire room stood still as a silent battle of wills played out between the two men.

"Vegeta, please state your intentions." Frieza intervened.

Vegeta didn't realize he was no longer seated. In his anger, he must have stood up.

"Lord Frieza, the human obviously can't take any more. I'm sure she can't even tell you how many fingers she has on her hand at this point." He explained. "I'm beginning to question if she will understand the lesson she was supposed to learn. Unless the reason behind the lesson was to give Zarbon an excuse to kill?"

"Don't you dare question my motives!" Zarbon exclaimed. "Especially coming from a stupid monkey that can't control _his_ own anger! How many planets have you blown up? Why should one human suddenly be the exception?"

"What does that have to do with this? This is a business deal after all! Do you think it wise to kill off something that was purchased before getting it back to the ship?" Vegeta was bristling in anger. His tail twitched with irritation, no longer tucked around his waist.

"Zarbon, I do believe that Vegeta has a point." Frieza interrupted their conversation again. "It would be best to take our purchase and get back to the ship. There isn't any point to beating the slave past the point of remembering why she received it in the first place. Vegeta, since you were so compelled to intervene then you can be in charge of the girl's recovery."

Vegeta stood in disbelief. _He_ was in charge of taking care of _her_?! He started to protest but Frieza raised his hand to silence the saiyan.

"You have your orders. Zarbon and I will take the slaves and finish up here. We will meet you back at the ship." With that, Frieza stood to leave.

Hearken called for the women to follow. The Nizarian woman stood in front of Hearken. With a nod from him, she thanked him and approached Vegeta. Nervously, she stood before him.

"Master Hearken has given me permission to assist you with Bulma if you wish, sir." Amisty shakily explained.

With a sigh Vegeta nodded his acceptance and strode over to Bulma. She was flitting in and out of consciousness, unable to acknowledge his approach. He walked behind her and brushed some of her matted, blood soaked hair aside with his white-gloved hand. The red marks and open wounds made him growl in anger. There was nothing that she had done to deserve such a harsh heavy hand. He was angered by Zarbon's carelessness.

"Is there a way to lower the chain?" He asked Amisty. "I don't want to have to lift her to get her unhooked."

"Yes sir. I will lower it right away." Amisty hurried away to help get her friend down.

He moved in front of Bulma to look at her a bit closer. Gently placing a finger under her chin, he tilted her head up to his. Her eyes fluttered open at the soft touch. Big blue pools of gratitude stared back at him.

"Thank you for stopping him." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Vegeta said nothing. It was taking every bit of strength not find Zarbon and punch the pretty right off of his face. Instead he grabbed her by her sides and helped her stand to relieve the pressure of the cuffs digging into her wrists. As soon as her arms dropped in front of her from Amisty lowering the chain, he released the clasp.

Letting her lean against his chest, he shifted his arm to wrap around her stomach. He was trying to be careful not to touch her back.

Amisty returned. Without being told, she hurriedly undid the bindings around Bulma's ankles and wrists. As soon as her legs were free Vegeta lowered himself and Bulma to the floor in a sitting position so she could continue to lean against him.

"Slave," he addressed Amisty, "Go get what you need to dress her wounds. Hurry up. I'm not a fan of having blood all over my clothes."

As Amisty left his sight again, Bulma's head dropped to lie against his shoulder. She sighed heavily as she was able to relax for the first time since her ordeal began that evening. Vegeta oddly enjoyed feeling her weight against him. It had been a long time since he enjoyed a woman's company. She felt pleasant in his arms. Her slow, steady breathing against his neck indicated that she was asleep.

Amisty returned and started to clean and dress Bulma's injuries. Vegeta was grateful that Bulma had passed out. He was in no mood to try and subdue a woman screaming in pain. He watched Amisty as her face was furrowed in worry. He could tell that this was not the first time she had done something like this for her. That would explain why Bulma had so much scarring in the first place.

When Amisty was finished, Vegeta shifted Bulma over his shoulder. He would rather carry her more properly but her back was a mess and he didn't want to risk it.

"Come, slave. Let's go to the ship to meet with the others."


	5. Chapter 5

_I do not own Dragon Ball Z or its affiliates. If I did then I would probably be a millionaire and have more chapters written by now..._

* * *

Vegeta stood scowling in a private room inside the transport ship. His frustration over the evening's turn of events radiated off of him in waves. He was staring out of the window as distant floating dots of light swam in the inky abyss before him. Thoughts spun in his head as he tried to contemplate how he was going to handle the new charge that had been placed under his temporary care. It was a giant pain for him and he wanted nothing to do with the woman. He didn't know if he was angrier at her for getting herself in that position in the first place or at himself from impulsively decided to intervene.

Turning, he looked at her sleeping on the couch. She was lying on her stomach facing away from him. Her back moved rhythmically to the timing of her breathing. She was given a sedative injection to keep from moving around and causing more damage to herself. The gauze on her back had blotches of red across the sterile white. The bleeding didn't stop until the transport ship was well on its way to Frieza's. Her bandages had already been changed once.

Vegeta turned away again and continued staring out the window where he left off. Zarbon's words kept replaying in his mind. _"Why should one human suddenly be the exception?" _

Shutting his eyes, he pressed his head against the cool glass in front of him. Vegeta didn't have an answer. He didn't know. He didn't understand why he even cared. _I've killed millions of people, blown up planets…_

Something about the way she danced had troubled and intrigued him. It almost felt like something from long ago was clawing its way through the shadows of his mind. Watching her as she moved was as seductive as it was unnerving. He felt like he was knocked off-center as an old memory tried to speak to him through her movements. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

A knock at the door jarred him from his thoughts.

"What!" He snarled. He whirled around to see who interrupted his contemplation.

"Uh," A tall, ugly, fat pink alien stammered from the doorway.

"Well?" Impatience was thick in Vegeta's voice.

"We're fifteen minutes away from base." He said. His eyes swept over the figure lying on the couch. Licking his plump purple lips hungrily he turned to Vegeta. "I can take her with me if you want."

"No Dodoria, I don't need your help." Vegeta snapped.

"Lord Frieza wants to speak with you before we land. I can take-"

"No, you won't." Vegeta glared at the obese alien. "Touch her and I'll rip your arms off. Is that clear? Or do you need a demonstration?"

"Fine." With a huff Dodoria walked out of the room.

Vegeta figured that the girl would attract more attention than she was healthy enough to handle right now. The realization that he would actually have to _protect_ her until she was able to fend for herself was a thorn in his side. A ridiculously large and annoying thorn.

He left her to sleep as he went to see what Frieza wanted now.

…

Bulma tried to open her eyes. She felt foggy as she started to wake up. The skin on her back felt tight and sore.

Her brain sluggishly replayed the last events that she remembered. The glass landing on Zarbon, her inability to stop him or her mouth and the indescribable pain that followed. She realized she didn't remember what happened after the ordeal. She couldn't even remember how she was released from her torture.

Where was she? Was she safe? Was she with Master Hearken? Is that what happened after everything? Was he going to torture her until she wanted to die?

Panic set in as she struggled to sit up. The pain blossoming across her back caused a wave of dizziness to overtake her. Quickly she lay back down to stop her head from spinning.

After a moment she opened her eyes and looked around the room, quickly realizing she was in a new place. It was much bigger than her room that she had been held captive in. The carpet was a deep navy blue, the walls a light tan. A large bed along one of the walls was neatly made with a white comforter. The night stands were white with an acrylic finish. Two sliding doors along the wall had the same finish as the night stands. The bathroom door was open and she was able to see white walls, white tile and white fixtures with a mirror. She was lying on a small cot next to a desk on the other side of the room. The space had a box-y feel and reminded her of a hotel. There was no décor or windows, however.

Reaffirming that she was not in her room or in Master Hearken's quarters she relaxed into the cot. She needed to go to the bathroom but she didn't want to move. Her bladder was quickly deciding that it was more important than her resting. After learning from her panic, she carefully pushed herself up and off of her bed.

Walking to the bathroom, her legs felt like they weighed a ton. Closing the door, she relieved herself. Glancing at her reflection as she washed her hands, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. Her hair was a tangled ball of mess and her face looked sunken and pale. She had on an oversized men's dress shirt and black underwear. She shook her head in bewilderment. Not quite sure how she ended up in the clothes she wore, she decided she looked like hell.

Curiosity got the best of her and she started to unbutton the shirt. She wanted to see how badly she was hurt. As she worked the buttons out of their loops, she surveyed the damage to her wrists. Ugly scabs encircled the outsides of them from the cuffs she had worn that evening. Bluish yellow bruises connected to the healing cuts created a circle. She was beginning to dread seeing what the rest of her was going to look like.

Peeling away the fabric, she turned to look at her back in the mirror. Thick, deep wounds crisscrossed across her shoulders and lower back. Some lines where a bright red where the whip only grazed the skin. Others were deep slashes that had already started the ugly process of forming a protective layer while the skin healed from the inside out. A few of the lines had cracked and were oozing a clear fluid from reopening. It was almost comical to see the untouched area along the middle of her back. She could see exactly where the top she had worn protected her. Not a mark touched that part of her skin.

The marks looked a few days old. Looking at her wrists again, she was pretty sure of it by the way the bruising was already starting to dissipate. The tell-tale healing was an indication that Amisty had been taking care of her. She hoped that Amisty had changed her into her current outfit, too.

With a sigh she carefully put the shirt back on and buttoned it up. She opened the door and walked out of the bathroom. The figure in the room made her stop in her tracks. She instantly recognized him by his odd hairstyle. The man that asked her to dance for him had his back to her. He was in the midst of changing his shirt, his muscles tantalizingly rippling under his skin. One of the double doors was open showing a row of matching uniforms hanging from inside. He continued dressing, half-turning his head in her direction.

She realized he had noticed her and automatically dropped to her knees. She awkwardly assumed the position that had been ingrained into her psyche from Master Hearken. Her back screamed in protest but she ignored it. As much as she detested being on the floor, she didn't think it would be a good idea to not follow proper protocol right now. She wasn't sure if he had a hand in her whipping towards the end and she as wise enough not to test him.

The man finished pulling on his long-sleeve navy shirt and faced her. With a motion of his hand, he indicated for her to look up at him. She did as he requested. For a long moment he studied her. His quiet contemplation made her feel awkward and exposed. She felt like she was being undressed under his stare. He didn't look happy but he didn't seem angry at her, either. The silence and the way he was studying her started to make her uneasy. She shifted her weight.

"Be still." The man said. "You are under my care for the next week or so. You are not to leave this room. You are in no condition to be walking around right now. I see you've found the bathroom and you obviously know where you sleep. I have loose shirts and coverings for you to wear. Your friend will be in twice a day to help take care of your back and bring you your meals. As soon as you're healed you will go to the slave quarters and assume your responsibilities. Do you understand? "

"Yes sir." Bulma automatically recited.

"Good. " He walked towards a door. "I have my own commitments to take care of so I will be in and out. Just don't leave. Zarbon's around and he's still mad about that unwelcome shower you gave him."

"Yes sir." She repeated. His mouth turned down into a troubled frown as he looked over her again. Without another word he left.

Bulma let out a sign of relief. She picked herself up off of the floor, happy to know that the man seemed fairly reasonable. She noticed a tray of food on the desk. The sight of it made her realize how hungry she was. Happily she eased herself into the chair and ate the soup and sandwich.

After finishing her meal, Bulma felt a bit more energized. She wanted to walk around, stretch her legs and explore this new place she would be living in. She wanted desperately to leave the room but the threat of Zarbon lurking somewhere around a corner was enough to make her decide that snooping around in the room was a much better way to pass the time. She knew she should rest, but there would be time for that later. She just had to be careful.

She decided the bedside drawer was a good place to start. Eagerly she opened it finding a thick folder that held what appeared to be military assignment files. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she scanned through the documents.

Thetop sheet in the file had a picture of the man who she was sharing the room with. Even in his picture he had the same troubled scowl on his face. She was quickly getting accustomed to it. His name, _Vegeta_, was labeled underneath as well as an identification number. His race, weight, height, age, health, and everything else one would find in a medical file was listed.

Flipping past his file, she found documents including planet names, coordinates, information about the inhabitants and the status of the missions. Some planets were marked off as terminated, others as inhabitable or uninhabitable. She noted that planets were categorized as 'resources' as well.

Scanning through the sheets, she recognized some of the planet names that Amisty had taught her. There were pictures of the landscapes and some of the people included in the files. Bulma was overjoyed as she put visuals to the planets she would routinely beg Amisty to tell her about. She was almost through the files but suddenly stopped. The one word at the top of the paper had her held captive as she stared at it as if it held the most valuable secret the universe could offer her.

_EARTH_

The word stared back at her as she sat dumbfounded on the floor. Trembling, she held the document up closer trying to comprehend the words that were neatly typed out.

_Type: Resource_

_Status: Inhabitable_

_Characteristics: Sustainable with caution. Weather is unpredictable and undergoes consistent changes. Areas of water, land, snow, sand and foliage present throughout the planet._

_Climate: Pleasant in central locations. Potential for rental is high once resources are exhumed._

_Inhabitants: Hostile. Proceed with caution. Use deadly force when necessary. _

_Assignment Rotation: Quarterly _

Bulma couldn't believe her eyes. She looked through the pictures and recognized the landmarks. The Golden Gate Bridge, Great Wall of China, Stonehenge, Pyramids of Giza, as well as a number of others were included. A tear fell onto the last picture.

Lifting her hand to her cheek, she gently brushed the silent river of tears away. The knowledge that her home planet was still in existence, that there were still people fighting to keep what was theirs, was overwhelming. A small glimmer of hope. She might be able to go back home.

As she placed the files back into the drawer, she stood and moved on to her next snooping task. Sliding open the closet door she looked at the clothes hanging in front of her. A large section of matching navy blue long sleeve tops and bottoms hung neatly in a row. On the ground sat a few thick white chest guards with reinforced gold padding across the abdomen, back and shoulders. The other side of the closet held shelves that contained some plain shirts, a few pairs of jeans, socks…nothing out of the ordinary.

Under the last shelf was a large box with small glass screens, wires and other electronics. Pulling one out, she examined the odd piece of technology. It looked like a communication headphone devise of some sort. The red transparent screen had a few cracks across it. A bulky earpiece had buttons, symbols and lights located on the outside. The inside had a speaker for the ear and a small speaker next to the screen. She flipped a switch by the ear piece and a small light on the screen started blinking. Intrigued, Bulma put it on.

Her left eye was covered by the screen. An image blinked and a scanning bar crossed her vision. The symbols that appeared were odd, but there were numbers under them. She realized that the movement of her eye could select different icons. Taking it off, she flipped the switch and the device powered down. Peeking into the box, she saw similar devices in various states of ruin.

Bulma enthusiastically plunged head first into the box. She was half hanging out of the box when the sound of a door closing startled her. Worried that she had been caught, she quickly lifter her head and caught the edge of the shelf with it.

"Ow!" She yelped. Holding the back of her head she turned to see what kind of trouble she was about to get into from the man named Vegeta.


	6. Chapter 6

_I do not own DBZ or its affiliates. I would like to...but, alas, I don't._

* * *

Amisty stared wide-eyed at Bulma half-hanging out of Vegeta's closet.

"Amisty!" Bulma untangled herself from the mess of wires and plastic. She rushed over to hug her friend.

"Bulma, what in the worlds are you doing?" Amisty pushed herself free from Bulma's embrace.

Bulma stood sheepishly grinning. "Just…you know…getting to know my roommate."

"You need to put everything back exactly the way you found it." Amisty was visibly shaken from catching Bulma rummaging through the closet.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're just overreacting."

"No, I'm not." Amisty was furious. "Put it all away. _Now_."

"Sheesh, fine already!" Bluma started to clean up her mess. Once most of it was put away she closed the closet door. "Why the dramatics? I was going to put everything back anyways."

Amisty pulled out an ointment canister. Opening it, she gestured for Bulma's wrists. Extending them, Amisty generously applied the salve to Bulma's cuts and bruises.

"Your _roommate_ would not take kindly to you going through _his_ things." Amisty saw the object in Bulma's hand. "Where did you get the scouter from?"

"Scouter?" Confused, Bulma looked at the device. "It was in the box. It looked interesting so I was just checking it out."

"Don't mess with that. All of Lord Freiza's soldiers have one and they talk to each other with them. They're used for other things, too. If they find you with one there's no telling how they'll react." Amisty motioned to Bulma to sit down.

"Well this one's broken so I doubt I have anything to worry about." Bulma plopped down onto the cot. "How long have we been here anyways?"

"Only two days." Amisty answered. She held up the jar in her hands. "This ointment helps to heal the body faster than anything I've ever seen. You should be back to normal in a few days."

Bulma studied the jar. No wonder her wounds looked like they've been healing for a while. "So where are we?"

"I'm not quite sure. ." Amisty pulled up the back of Bulma's shirt and began applying the ointment. "We're not on a planet. We've been on a ship that the soldiers here call home but I'm not sure where in the universe we actually _are_. There's no sun, no clocks and no windows. We sleep when we can but are confined to more cleaning and chores then I'd expected. I've found out we can be requested for use by the men and women too. Thankfully I haven't had to deal with that yet. Since we're new here we get used to our surroundings and jobs before we're allowed to be 'requested' for personal…needs."

"Requested?" Bulma shuddered.

"Just be careful Bulma." Amisty pulled her shirt back down. She got up and got Bulma a glass of water. She handed her the glass and a small pill. "Take this and rest up. It's for any possible infection you might have. I'll be back in the morning."

She reluctantly took the pill and water. "You're leaving already?"

Amisty smiled at her friend. "Well, I guess I can help you get that tangled mess of hair under control before I have to go."

…

Vegeta sat up from his bed. He heard it again. Peering through the darkness he saw the woman tossing and turning on the cot. He lay back down and pulled the covers up over his head. Closing his eyes he tried to ignore the rustling. It was the second night in a row his sleep was interrupted by her.

He was almost back to sleep when he heard her cry out. The pathetic whimpering noises she made were getting under his skin. Frustrated he threw the covers off the bed.

Without needing to turn on a light he found his way beside her, fully able to see every detail on her tormented face. His anger ebbed a bit as he watched her fight through some kind of nightmare. She was sleeping but whatever she was dreaming about had a hold on her. He needed to get some sleep. As she cried out again he shook her awake.

Her wild, unfocused eyes opened while trying to search for something familiar in the darkness. In a panic she threw a punch, miraculously connecting with the side of his face. Finding where her mark was, she attempted to follow up with more. His anger ignited from the blow, Vegeta swiftly grabbed her arms and pinned them to her sides.

A shrill scream escaped her as she tried to kick out.

A quick slap across the face and she stilled. He could hear her heart thumping rapidly in her chest. Her breathing came out in shallow rasps as she gulped for air. She still looked panicked but her world was shifting back into reality. Vegeta sensed some of the tension leaving her. Carefully he released his grip.

Without warning, the woman threw herself against him. She wrapped her arms around him as she pressed herself against his bare chest, holding onto him as if his solidity could stop her thoughts from drowning her. The smell of delicate lavender and sage enveloped his senses. Her velvety skin against his ignited a yearning to pull her closer. Warm wet tears rolled down his chest as he felt her body tremble. For a moment his world stopped. The want to disrobe her surged through his veins. Images of her lying under him as he explored every crevice of her body filled his vision. He already knew what she sounded like while experiencing excruciating pain. He wanted to know what she sounded like while experiencing extreme pleasure. He felt his need to be inside of her growing. The idea of surrounding himself in her essence was as intoxicating as it was alarming.

He fought the urge to return her embrace. Her crying started to decrease in its intensity. Silken hair tickled his skin. How would it feel to have that blue waterfall cascade around his face as she straddled him? He felt himself grow in response to her touch. His tail curled in excitement as the thought of burying himself deep inside of her folds grew in urgency.

He kept himself rigid and controlled but he felt himself losing the battle. The idea of holding her, taking her, making her cry out in desire was pushing him to the brink of surrendering to his desire.

Not able to stand it any longer, he peeled her off of him and pushed himself out of reach. Without looking at her, he walked to the closet and threw on pants and a shirt. He heard her sob harder from the sudden emptiness. Trying to escape the pull to continue comforting her, he left the room without a word.

The raw emotion was too overwhelming. He needed to get distance between them. Walking through the sterile corridors he didn't have any direction or destination. He didn't know what he was trying to escape from. Her scent, as well as the images of taking her right there haunted him as he aimlessly wandered the halls. Neither would leave him.

As he searched out for a refuge, his feet stopped in front of a familiar glass door. Without realizing it, his legs had taken him to the one place he was always able to work through his torments. He stood in front of the training room door.

Punching in his access code, he was relieved to see no one else was there as he entered. He went straight to one of the heavy bags and began throwing punches. Uppercuts, jabs, headshots, kidney punches, his arms were a blur as the fury of his blows rained down on the unsuspecting bag. He tried to envision the bag he was brutalizing to be Frieza's lifeless body. Exerting himself to the brink, the smell of his sweat and anger began to overpower her lingering scent.

The bag swung as tattered canvas flaked on the ground. The padded lining was beginning to split as grains of sand escaped to the floor. Breathing heavily he finally stopped. His mind was still reeling but he was becoming too fatigued to clean up the mess he was about to make. Lack of sleep and a full day of work had him exhausted faster than he was used to. Grabbing a towel and water, he sat down on one of the benches.

Wiping the sweat from his face he stared at the floor. He had bedded countless women while acquiring planets for Frieza. It was one of the only perks of the job. _She_ was different. He couldn't wrap his mind around it. His skin still tingled from where she held him. It was almost like all of his nerves were dormant before and had suddenly awakened. There was no explaining it. He had never reacted like this to _anyone_. Her embrace had felt scorching hot against his icy, carefully built walls.

At a loss for what to do, he decided that he would avoid her until her time with him was over. After that, she would surely be taken as a prize by another on the ship. He knew that Zarbon would be one of the first in line to try and take her as his own. As he finally moved to go hit the showers he smiled as he thought of how she would give Zarbon hell as he tried to make her his own. The thought of someone else having her, however, was unsettling to him.

…

Bulma looked over the room as she made her cot for the last time. The small room that first felt like a refuge had slowly turned into a prison. Not willing to risk the threat of running into Zarbon, she didn't dare venture out of the room the entire time she was there. In that time, though, she was utterly alone. Amisty visited twice a day, as promised, but her visits were always kept short. Her being allowed to treat Bulma was a risky courtesy that Vegeta had worked out in the beginning. If Amisty was away from her duties too long, her punishments would be severe.

After the night Vegeta woke her up, she didn't see him again. There was evidence that he was in and out of the room while she slept but he managed to come and go unnoticed. She was humiliated that he had to wake her up from one of her nightmares. It wasn't her intention to reach out to him for comfort.

The way he pushed her off of him and left without a word was more devastating than the nightmare that she had experienced. She would almost rather feel the bite of the short whip then be rejected like that again. She tried to not let his reaction bother her but with so much time alone with nothing to do she couldn't help it. The more time he spent avoiding her, the more upset she became.

Within that time Bulma had to herself, she decided to make herself busy by turning to the once task that would always bring her comfort back home. Diving into the technology of the scouter, she was able to rebuild one from the pieces and parts that were discarded into the box by Vegeta. She learned the ins and outs of its capabilities while being careful not to send out a signal indicating that hers was back online. She wasn't sure what the ramifications would be for having the technology in her possession but she wasn't about to find out. She had kept it carefully tucked away under the mattress of her cot. She now patted it softly to reassure herself that it was secured against her thigh. The flowing floor-length skirt she wore did well to hide its bulkiness.

Amisty appeared in the doorway. Smiling, she entered the room.

"Are you ready?"

With one last look at the room Bulma silently said a goodbye. "As ready as I'll every be, I guess."

"I'll show you where you'll be staying. You're on the opposite side of the ship. Pay attention because all of the corridors look the same. You'll get lost if you're not careful." Amisty stepped towards the door.

Bulma turned away from the little room for what she both hoped and regretted was her last time. For the first time since her arrival, she crossed the protection of the threshold and entered into the unknown.


	7. Chapter 7

_I don't own DBZ. _Thank you_ for your reviews so far! I absolutely love the feedback ^-^_

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_This was his favorite place to be. He snuggled in closer as he was surrounded by her comfort, warmth and protection. He felt his hair being ruffled as he returned her hug. Looking up he grinned at the only person who could give him comfort and solitude under any circumstance._

"_What did I do to deserve such a smile?" She cooed as she kissed his forehead. "Okay my big boy. Let's try this again. This time, though, I'll do it with you."_

_His mother put him down on his shaky legs as she wrapped her tail around his. He looked ahead as he focused on the task ahead. He wanted to make her proud of him. He was determined to be the Prince she knew he would be._

"_Remember to center your mind and relax. You'll feel a spike of energy, but you have to control it. That energy is called your ki, remember? Once you feel the energy, do exactly what I showed you. Remember to trust your instincts."_

_He looked up at his mom again with eyebrow furrowed together in concentration. With another laugh she ruffled his hair again. Closing her eyes, she lifted and hovered a foot or so above the ground. She tugged on his tail with hers to encourage him to follow._

_Closing his eyes just like his mom, he quieted his mind. Feeling the energy surround and crackle around him he visualized containing it into a disk that he could stand on with his little feet. He felt himself rise on tiptoe. The energy gathered in intensity and he mentally pushed it down as he rose higher. He couldn't feel the ground under him anymore. _

_Opening his eyes, he was face to face with his mother. She squealed in delight as she wrapped him in another hug._

"_Oh 'Geeta, I'm so proud of you!" She tossed him up in the air and caught him in her arms as he laughed with her. "Daddy's going to be so happy that his boy is turning into a little man! You're learning to fly so early! I couldn't be any more proud of you."_

_He delighted in seeing the love and laughter in her eyes. He would do anything in the worlds to see his mother smile just for him. He threw his arms around her neck as he swelled with pride at her reaction to the new technique he was learning._

_With a giggle, she lowered both of them back to the ground. "Come on 'Geeta. Let's go show daddy!"_

_He grabbed her hand and waddled beside her as they wandered through the garden and back to the castle. He was excited to show his dad how great of a Prince he was going to be._

Without opening his eyes he sat quietly with his head resting against the soft leather headrest of his pod. The memory of his mother and him as a toddler in the palace gardens faded away.

He had sworn long ago that he would become the super saiyan of legend. Even as a child, he knew he would fulfill the legend surrounding his family's heritage. He was the last in his bloodline of royal greatness. His mother would always comment about how intelligent he was or how quickly he was developing compared to the other children his age. He had delighted in surprising her with the new skills he learned.

A long standing alliance between the Saiyans and the Colds had lasted generations. Both families worked together to secure and conquer large areas of the universe. The elders of old wisely knew that for both of their peoples to flourish, a truce needed to be formed. Their relationship allowed them to share the riches of their conquests without destroying each other in the process. Both parties kept peace to ensure their symbiosis. The future of their generations depended on it while the universe hated them for it.

Frieza grew bored and restless with the alliance. He hated the system of checks and balances in place and grew tired of answering to the alliance to ask for what he wanted. A spoiled brat who selfishly wanted to rule the universe began a coup d'état against the Saiyan régime. Despite their best efforts, the war following exhausted the King's resources as soldiers gave their lives to protect their world. Knowing the fastest way to force surrender, he targeted the planet's royal tyrants. His mother and father stood against Frieza. Their saiyan pride would not allow them to abandon their home planet for the sake of their race. With a valiant effort, they fell at his hand. Vegeta, only four, watched their demise as they sacrificed their lives to try and protect them all. Frieza ended their resistance swiftly while blowing the planet into oblivion as the ultimate show of dominance. Like everything Frieza touched, the only life Vegeta had ever known was destroyed.

Frieza took Vegeta as his trophy. Frieza loved flaunting his power in defeating the saiyan King and overthrowing their empire. It was his twisted way of showing the universe that the only power that could've destroyed him was now his to yield. Knowing the talent and strength Vegeta possessed, Frieza honed Vegeta's brains and brawn into his perfect weapon.

Vegeta was the best killing machine Frieza had ever developed. The remaining few of Vegeta's race were forced to be Frieza's personal rottweilers. Frieza had sent all of them to the most volatile of planets to conquer so the Planet Trade Organization's could continue to safely operate without threat to Frieza's rule. He had expected the group to fail every time but to his surprise they always managed to complete the task and return in various states of ruin.

Recognizing Vegeta was becoming dangerously powerful as he grew older, Frieza changed tactics. At the age of 12 Vegeta was promoted into his elite force. There, Frieza could keep a tighter leash to ensure he remained in check. Frieza began sending Vegeta on private missions with the same hope that he would perish in battle. The resolve to one day seek his revenge for his people gave Vegeta the strength to complete every mission he was sent on.

"Destination reached. Landing procedures engaged." A robotic voice spoke.

He was troubled that memories of his childhood had pushed through the locked door in his mind. They started because of _her_. He didn't understand what kind of witchcraft she yielded to captivate his interest. He was almost sure her spell was cast when she danced for him. That's when his memories began resurfacing. He tried to keep himself busy to avoid his room while she was there. Going back only to sleep, he had hoped his absence would stop the pain of reliving memories of his loved ones from recurring. Most nights he would find himself standing over her to watch her as she slept. She fascinated him and he despised her for it.

The worst part was her scent. Infecting his bedding, his clothing and his mind, it followed him everywhere he went. No matter where he went on the ship she continued to haunt him. Even during his training, she broke through his thoughts. Where once he replaced the blaster bots and training bags with images of Frieza's demise he now found himself picturing them to be the invisible demons that tormented her at night.

The suppressed memories started shortly after the night at the auction. They leaked every so often from the dam he had built to contain them. After she had reached out to him, they came flowing out of the smoldering hole she had left. He needed to plug them back up with the only way he knew how. The day before _she_ was scheduled to move into her own permanent room he put in a request for deployment. He and his crew were given orders to acquire a new planet for the Trade Organization that evening.

As he relived his anguish over what was taken from him, he reveled in the monster that he had become. The pain and torment of others was the only way to shut the memories down. He longed to smell the fear and despair in the air as the ground would undoubtedly become saturated in blood. That was the only way the joy he painfully longed for would cower in fear in the deepest recesses of his mind.

The twisted enjoyment he received from destroying others was Frieza's doing. He had deformed Vegeta into everything the universe whispered and feared about Saiyans since the dawn of their existence. He gladly took on this assignment to refocus on what he needed to do. The only option he had was to get _her_ and his past out of his head. He needed to stop the distractions.

The ship jolted as it made its landing. The door hissed open as warm sunlight washed over him. Stretching, he stepped out of the pod. Near him, three other pods loudly announced their arrival as their tenants quickly exited. A massive, towering bald figure flanked his right. A man who was a head shorter than the behemoth bud double the width in muscle with jet black hair as long as he was tall joined him on the left. Bringing up the rear was an athletic, stacked man with a smile on his face and laughter in his eyes. The four remaining Saiyans in the universe looked out at the next planet they were about to conquer.

"You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me."

Vegeta stared in disbelief at the forest before them. Large, sweeping willow-like trees swayed gently in the breeze. Their sapphire leaves glimmered as the sun's rays kissed their surface. The movements of blue instantly made him think of her silken hair.

She was here. Even though he had tried to leave the thoughts of her on the ship, she still found a way to follow him here. The air around him was now filled with violent energy as he began to lose his composure. He could almost see the illumination of electricity surrounding him. He ignored the confused expressions of his comrades.

In a rage, he shot to the sky above the forest, his soldiers close behind. Hovering above the sea of blue, he looked down and envisioned her face. He could almost smell the delicate lavender in the air. His skin heated as he remembered the feel of her against him. Madness overtook him as his blasts decimated the sparkling gem below.

…

Bluma stared down the hallway completely lost. She was on her way to clean another room but became disorientated on her way to her next destination. Amisty wasn't kidding when she warned that the corridors all looked the same. It was her first day and she was already messing everything up. The destination was her last room she needed to finish before serving lunch in the dining hall and she was already running late.

She looked at her map again to figure out where she was. Making up her mind, she turned herself and her cleaning cart to the right and continued walking. Something kept making her turn back to look behind her. She could almost feel eyes watching her. Whenever she turned around though, no one was there. Picking up the pace, she found the room she needed.

Punching in her access code, the door whooshed open. She entered and started the task of changing the sheets. Opening the closet door, she mindlessly pushed that garments aside and hit a button on the back of the wall. A door opened in the bottom of the closet floor. She shoved the bedding through the metal laundry shoot and hit the button to close the false floor door. She began the task of sliding the hangers back to their original place when she stopped in disbelief from the fabric in her hands.

She turned the white cape over. Despite her silent hope of seeing the same white color along the underside of the fabric, she was met with a light periwinkle blue. Quickly she slammed the closet door shut and turned to rush out of the room. She was met by a wall of muscle.

Looking up, she was greeted by laughing golden eyes. She took a step back and pressed herself against the white closet door. Powerful arms pressed against the door behind her as she became entrapped between him and the wall. There was no escape from the towering figure.

"My, aren't you a beautiful sight after a long morning." Zarbon sighed into her ear. "I was wondering when the filthy monkey was going to let you out of hiding."

Repulsed by his close proximity, she turned her face away from his. She held her ground even though every fiber of her being screamed at her to run away. His responding chuckle sent frigid hatred tingling down her spine.

"Excuse me, sir, but I have to get back to my duties." Bulma's voice slightly waivered as she tried to remain calm.

Zarbon placed his hand behind her neck. Ignoring her comment, he gently rubbed his thumb along her jawline. He looked down on her with eyes swimming in lust and loathing. Knowing what the sadistic bastard was capable of, she tried her best to stay still.

"Such soft and decadent skin you have." He brought his face closer to hers. "It was lovely feeling it slice as easily as butter. And that deep red against your pale skin…breathtaking. Having that smooth, clean canvas on your back is just begging to me for an encore."

"Get the hell away from me." Bulma hissed through clenched teeth.

Smiling at her spunk, he moved his hand to the front of her throat. He put enough pressure around her neck to make her excessively uncomfortable. Instinctively her hands flew up to claw at his grasp. He tightened his grip a bit more to watch her eyes light up in panic.

"And what, precisely, will you do if I choose to ignore your request?" Holding her in place, he moved his other hand to caress her breast through the thin fabric of her top. "Such a shame that your precious Prince is off-ship. He's not here to intervene on your behalf."

She squeaked in pain as he roughly pinched her nipple. His hand moved to her other breast to mimic the same caressing and pinching. Closing the gap between them, Zarbon pressed his lips against hers. At first he was gentle as he explored her lips with his. He became more forceful and demanding with his mouth as his arousal grew.

Bulma stood helplessly pinned against the wall. She tried to push him away but he ignored her as one would ignore a moth. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she tried to block out the growing discomfort as he played with her breasts. He lightened up the pressure around her neck as his lips moved down to explore the exposed skin around her neck. Licking and nipping at her soft flesh, she began to feel each painful nip shoot directly into her groin. Her back involuntarily arched as she felt herself sinking into his touch. He pressed his body against hers. She could feel his arousal through the fabric. Cursing at herself as felt her body respond to him she stopped trying to push him away. She was torn between her revulsion and sudden arousal. Sensing her response, he pulled his lips away from hers.

"As soon as your probation is up, I will be sure to place my request for you. When that day comes, and I promise you that it will, I will make you beg for mercy. This time there will be no Prince to save you." His voice was thick with vicious threat and desire.

Releasing her from his grasp, she fell to the floor. Her mind spun with confusion from her arousal, his threat, her anger at her body for betraying her and his comments about a prince. Pushing herself off of the floor, she scurried out of the room as fast as her legs could take her as his laughter trailed behind her


	8. Chapter 8

_I don't own DBZ._

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Quickly shoving the cart in the storage closet near her room, Bulma raced to the dining hall. Heart pounding from rushing to be somewhat on time as well as from Zarbon's advance, she entered the kitchen through the staff door. Smoothing out her assigned uniform of a flowing, almost transparent black skirt and thin tank top, she searched for Amisty. Recognizing the flash of short white hair, Bulma snaked through the prep tables to join her.

"Thank the gods you're here!" Amisty threw an apron at her. "Do you know how much stalling I had to do to so they wouldn't notice you were missing? You're going to get us both in some serious trouble!"

Bulma hastily put the garment on as she muttered an apology. Grabbing the serving tray filled with food Amisty pointed to, she followed her into the dining hall. A surge of noise greeted her as she entered the room. Aliens of every different size, shape and color filled the room. Some had tentacles for arms while others had several legs. Multiple eyes on faces, gills on the sides of necks, slithering tales, scales, quills, fur….the combination of life forms were endless before her. Although she had seen odd looking men during her time with Master Hearken, they paled in comparison to the beings in the room. She noted that every one of them looked like they had the muscle needed to kill in an instant.

The noise in the room was overwhelming. She overheard conversations about recent battles encountered on other planets. Others were slinging insults to rile up a cohort into a fight. Laughter was exchanged between a few. Mostly, though, the occupants were busy shoveling food into their mouths.

Her presence in the room was noticed by the men and women around her. She wanted to shrink away from their curiously hungry expressions. A green faced alien shot her a fang-filled smile while another winked his reptile-like eye at her. One that had skin the color of Earth's sky stopped her as he groped her backside. With a playful smack on her butt he sent her along her way. A woman whistled at her as she propositioned Bulma for a fuck. She was mortified that she was being treated like a piece of meat. Didn't these beings have any sense of decorum?

As she wandered around the maze of chairs and bodies a flash of emerald caught her eye. From across the room she noticed Zarbon watching her every move. With a shudder she turned away from him. His presence was unnerving. Doing her best to ignore him and the other swine in the room, she followed Amisty's and the other girls' lead in serving lunch, cleaning off tables and trying to keep up with the mess piling on the floor.

The soldiers finally began to file out as they finished eating and socializing. She was thankful for the lull in noise as she wiped the tables off. An hour or so later the disaster of a hall was cleaned to spotless perfection. With her duties finished for the day, she turned in her apron. She started to head for her new room as she caught up to Amisty.

"How was your first day?" Amisty asked.

"Interesting, I guess." Bulma answered. She didn't feel like indulging in her encounter with Zarbon just yet. "A lot more work than I expected. It's not so bad being done this early, though, so I guess I can't complain."

"Yeah, well not all of us get to punch out for the day like you." Amisty spat.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Bulma stopped walking as she looked at her friend in disbelief. Amisty had never talked to her like that before.

Amisty glanced at her. "Nothing. It….it meant nothing. I have some stuff I need to finish up with. I'll catch up with you later."

Bulma watched as Amisty turned away from her and continued walking. Dumbfounded, Bulma let her go. Instead, she turned down the hall towards her room. Angrily punching in her code she stepped in her room, the door shutting behind her. Leaning against it, she allowed herself to slide down it and sat on the floor.

The day's events replayed in her mind. The mundane chores she was in charge of, the bizarre men and women from the dining hall, Amisty's strange behavior, her encounter with Zarbon…she hated every minute of it. The small room was a painful reminder of the solitude she left just a day before. Although she was left alone in Vegeta's room, Bulma felt unexplainably safe surrounded by those four walls. She found that the nights she slept the best were the ones where she saw evidence of him shortly after she woke up.

Shifting her focus to the odd exchange in the hallway, she couldn't understand why Amisty snapped at her. What the hell was with Amisty anyways? Bulma noticed her visits gradually becoming shorter, but she figured it was because of the demands on the ship. As she reflected, Bulma realized that Amisty did seem to become more agitated throughout their visits. She was saddened at the realization that this place had changed her friend in a matter of days. Would the same changes overcome her, too?

And what was she going to do about Zarbon? The thought of him touching her again made her skin crawl with revulsion. He brutal handling of her as he drew out her involuntary response made her feel grimy. His promise to finish the whipping that he started terrified her. It was strange that Zarbon had mentioned a prince intervening on her behalf. Trying to remember his words through her disgust, they just didn't make any sense. Amisty never indulged in the details of how she got on the ship or in Vegeta's room. All she was told was that he was the only person who volunteered his space. Pulling her legs closer to her chest, she laid her head against the cool metal and shut her eyes to concentrate on the memory she carefully tucked away.

_Agony from the feeling of the short whip sliced through her. Vegeta sat directly in front of her while the rest of the room was hidden from sight. Gritting her teeth she felt another bite as she stared at the carpet glistening from her splattered blood. Between the strikes she now found herself floating in a black abyss. The sharp agony she felt continued to draw her from the nothingness she was fighting to envelop herself in. Her wrists and back were a dull burn where searing pain once was. The cracks across her back ignited the flame's intensity into agony and then ebbed back into dull misery. She just wanted the pain to stop. She didn't want to die this way. Her existence was now shattered into this sadistic servitude. If she survived this, she doubted she could survive another._

_Exhausted and unable to hold up her weight any longer, she allowed herself to hang form the horrid cuffs penetrating into her wrists. A booming voice echoed in her head as she waited for another strike. The sound pulled her once more from the comfort of nothingness. Conversation ensued around her as she felt the reprieve from the whip. She could hear arguing surround her, then nothing. Feeling a soft touch, she struggled to open her eyes. She was face to face with the man from the chair. She focused on thier honey brown color as his eyes swept across her face in genuine concern._

_She spoke what she hoped was a coherent sentence of gratitude as she fought through the darkness calling out to her once more. She didn't think he understood her since he stood silent. Succumbing to the black void hovering from the outskirts of her vision, she felt herself being lifted. A warm embrace encircled her as she then felt herself sinking. _

_Was this what it felt like to die? Leaning into the warmth surrounding her she decided to finally let go. She leaned into the pleasant comfort as she envisioned her family. She hoped that when she opened her eyes again, the faces of her loved ones would smile at her in greeting. _

Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself from the memory she had consciously tried to block, she realized that Vegeta must have stopped Zarbon from killing her in front of everyone. That _had_ to be the intervention he had mentioned. The comment about a prince though? If he was a prince, why did Master Hearken cater to Frieza and not him? Frieza and he looked nothing alike so she knew he wasn't his next of kin. It didn't make any sense by her definition of royalty. And if he was so concerned about her well-being, why did he push her away from him that night and avoid her the rest of the time she was there? Was Amisty jealous of her staying with a possible prince?

The rush of thoughts banging around in her head was giving her a headache. It all added up to her solidifying her resolve to find a way out of this craziness and back to Earth. Things were so different here than they were at home. She wanted to take a shower to get the grubby feel of Zarbon and the horrid memory of her whipping off of her skin but she had something more pressing to take care of first.

Pushing to her feet, she went over to her bed and bend over. Plunging her hand as far in-between the mattress and box spring as she could, she blindly groped for her hidden object. Feeling the cold hard metal against her fingers, she grasped it and carefully pulled it out. Her stolen scouter sat perfectly intact in her hands. Settling down in the little chair at her desk, she nervously turned it over in her hands. She had been excited about her luck with being a part of the cleaning crew aboard the ship. She knew that she had access to areas that would normally be restricted so she could complete her morning chores. Learning quickly that she would get lost in the halls if she wasn't careful, she needed a way to navigate through the ship as fast as possible for her plan to work. The scouter had to be her ticket out.

She didn't take the risk to activate it as she was rebuilding it before. It took her three days to refurbish it with parts from the discarded ones in the closet. After another day, she was able to learn how to use the complex technology it ran with a language foreign to her. By the time she had figured out that it could be used to gain access into the ship's systems, it was time for her to move into her own, identical, room.

Pulling a thin stick no bigger than her thumb out from the waistband of her underwear, she contemplatively twirled it through her fingers. She swiped it earlier from one of the storage rooms she mistook for cleaning supplies. It turned out to be a closet holding miscellaneous pieces of computer equipment. She was dumbfounded that it was so easily accessible. She found a box of drives that looked similar to the ones she had at the lab for keyboarding and networking. Willing to take the risk, she stowed one away so she could examine it later.

Staring at the scouter on the desk she finally plugged the stick into a small drive slot on the side. Flipping the switch, it blinked to life. With a deep breath she put it on as a glowing keyboard appeared and hovered in front of her. Sending a small thank you to the gods for the drive being exactly what she had thought, she began keying in numbers as she hacked into the scouter's motherboard to put it online. After a few minutes of nerve-racking attempts, a small green dot appeared in the bottom corner of her screen. Code began scrolling in front of her as she broke through the firewall and won access into the ship's mainframe. Knowing that time was not on her side, she quickly found blueprints with the layout of the entire ship. Immediately downloading it to the little drive and backing out of the coded screen, she went to work in covering her tracks. Deleting her history and scrambling the connection to bounce off of scouter receivers from all areas of the ship, she hid her signal the best she could and disconnected her scouter from the system.

Hands shaking from the adrenaline rush, Bulma carefully pulled the scouter from her face. She popped the drive out of the side and sat perfectly still...waiting. She strained to listen beyond the walls for any signs of chaos. She didn't know if she was expecting sirens blaring with flashing lights or a mob of people rushing through the halls in a panic from the breach. It would be undoubtedly noticed in the system. She was hoping she scrambled the signal well enough to send whoever would find out on a wild goose chase.

Satisfied that the reign of terror she half expected to come crashing down on her was not on its way, she went to put her now mini super-computer back into hiding. She took the drive and found a crevice under her desk to tuck it away in. The precaution was taken just in case someone went snooping through her room and stumbled upon one piece of her contraband without finding the other. Satisfied with her work, she decided that she finally deserved that shower.

…

The report printed out before him had him quivering in disbelief. He stared at the graphs as he tried to make sense of it. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Swallowing over the lump in his throat he gathered his courage to report his findings to Frieza.

He rushed through the halls as he made his way to the farthest wing of the ship. Stopping in front of the large double doors, he shakily pressed the intercom button on the wall. He was on edge as he waited for a response.

"_What is it?"_ Frieza's annoyed voice came through the little speaker above the button.

"I have some pressing news for you, sir." His voice was dripping with anxiety.

"_About what?"_ His tone did not change.

"Our systems. Sir, we have a security breech." Silence followed.

Without warning the doors in front of him opened making him jump. Taking the invitation, he hurried through them and into Frieza's front office. He paced the room clutching the report as he waited for Frieza.

A door behind the desk opened and Frieza entered the room. His anger at being interrupted was apparent. Crossing his arms expectantly, he waited to hear what was so important.

"I-I just g-got the r-report a moment ago." He stuttered as panic and fear gripped him. "There's been a breach in the security s-systems. Someone from on the s-ship accessed c-confidential files."

"Haven't we handled situations like this before?" Frieza lifted an eyebrow quizzically. "This isn't the first time someone tried to hack into our system. Why wasn't it caught as it was happening?"

"The attack came from in-inside the ship, sir. We've never put an alert system in place to stop an internal attack. Everything has been an external threat up until this point. It's reporting that it came from a scouter, sir. One of our own!" He cringed as he waited for Frieza's reaction.

"So what you're telling me is…one of our scouters that measures power levels and stores information is equipped enough to get into our main computer system, shut down every alarm we have in place to detect an immediate breech and download secure files?" Disbelief was apparent in his voice.

"Sir, I don't know how it happened but you are correct. I have roughly 100 scouters that the computer has identified as a possible threat to the system. I've never seen this happen before…it's an internal attack that has to come from someone inside this ship." He became bolder with his defense.

Frieza looked at him. He understood that someone on this ship might be forming a mutiny; he just had a hard time believing it. That was the only way he could fathom why someone on the ship would start sniffing where they didn't belong. Any resistance to his rule needed to be crushed immediately.

"Fine. Put out the alert to your team and find out who, exactly, has a death wish. Do _not_ let anyone outside of your team have any knowledge of what you found. I want whoever this is to be found immediately before they have a chance to slip away under our radar. The minute you figure out who it is, come _directly_ to me. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir." He said with a bow. Understanding his dismissal, he hurried out to start the process of decoding the encryptions in place to hide the signal's origin.

Frieza stormed back into his living quarters. How _dare_ any member of his ship think they can defy him! Grabbing the woman he was rudely pulled away from, he yanked her off of the couch. She quickly pattered behind him as he led her to his bedroom. He needed to relieve his anger and frustration and she was the perfect distraction. Throwing her onto his bed, he looked into her surprised yet understanding eyes. He took her in while resisting the urge to violently take her. Her light purple skin glowed in the dimly lit room. No one understood him better than her. It was even better that her desirable appearance was the perfect combination of his favorite colors – purple and white.


	9. Chapter 9

Vegeta hovered over the decimated town. Parts of bodies littered the ground below as miniature red rivers wound through the dirt. He closed his eyes and pushed his senses out beyond himself as he searched. He needed the feel of something withering in his deadly grasp. To his left he could feel a small blip of energy. Opening up his eyes, he looked for the figure fighting to live.

"Raditz, take Nappa and Kakarot to the next town and start the extermination. I have one last thing to attend to here before I join you." Vegeta's eyes narrowed as he locked onto what he was looking for.

"Yes, of course." Raditz replied. He gave Vegeta a side glance before he left to gather the other two undoubtedly screwing off somewhere below. Knowing it wasn't his place to question him, Raditz left him to his odd contemplation.

Vegeta knew all three of them were taken aback by his assault on the unsuspecting forest when they had first arrived. Knowing better then to question him, he had heard their confused whispers as he lost his composure. They kept exchanging looks amongst themselves as they moved through each town and turning them into piles of chaos and death. Although he did not feel obligated to offer an explanation, he knew they had suspected the woman he harbored had something to do with his normally predictable outbursts.

Vegeta lowered himself to the area where he felt the last remnants of life. He surveyed the damage around him as he searched. Proud of the destruction, he reveled in the sound of crunching debris under his blood-stained boots. It was cleansing to see the horror left behind from himself and his cohorts. The ghosts plaguing his mind had finally turned into whispers. He could already feel the tenseness unwinding from his shoulders as _her_ incantation had slowly released its grip.

A low moan of agony caught his attention as he located the energy he had felt. A female form lay on the ground with her leg wedged underneath a large boulder of concrete. Her purple eyes widened as she watched his approach. Struggling, she tried to free her crushed, bloodied leg but the rock held steadfast against her attempts. Her features and skin tone were like those of his or a human's, although he could tell that she was much more powerful than the latter. Her hair matched her eyes as it hung from her head in a tangled, debris-filled mess. He watched as her dirty, tear-stained face looked around for anything to use as a tool for defense. As he drew closer, she oddly calmed, becoming perfectly still when he was almost standing on top of her. She looked past him and focused on something beyond him. Without warning, he felt her energy spike. Turning, he deflected a large piece of airborne rubble with an effortless blast, obviously meant for the back of his head. He was impressed with the fight she had left despite her circumstance. Her telekinetic abilities might be fun to toy with.

With a flick of his wrist he expertly destroyed the boulder pinning her in place with a small ki blast. As the dust settled he studied her as she struggled to stand. Balancing all of her weight on her good leg, she straitened herself up as best as she could as she faced him.

Waiting.

He knew her planet was familiar with saiyans. Almost all of the cites they had ransacked had given a valiant, although pathetic, effort to eradicate the four invaders. The creature standing before him knew full well what her fate would be whether she ran or fought for her life.

He flexed his fingers as he strategized how he would begin. Debilitate her then make her beg for death as he ripped her apart limb from limb? Allow her to think she has the upper hand during a fight then watch the confusion and horror cross her face as she realizes he was in control the whole time? Force himself on her while she struggles to break free, then watch the life drain from her as she's killed by his own hands? As tantalizing as all three options seemed, he didn't understand why the latter didn't settle well with him.

"Are we going to start this or what?" The woman asked. Her attitude would be admired by most, however he found it to grate on his nerves. It reminded him of _her_ defiance from the auction trade-off room.

_Yes…she will be the perfect distraction for me._

"Obviously you understand that there will be only one outcome?" Vegeta spoke, starting his game. "If you can defeat me, I will allow you to live. If I get the upper hand, however, your end will not be swift."

"I highly doubt you know what you're about to get yourself into." He watched her crouch into a fighting stance as she calmly stated her reply.

His villainous laugh reverberated in the hollow space. "It is _you_ that is in way over your head. Your ignorance and lack of respect in facing the Prince of all Saiyans will bring me great enjoyment as I teach you the grave mistake you have made. I will give you this one opportunity to attempt your escape. If you can evade me, I will grant you your freedom. If you can overpower me, I will honor the same privilege."

She kept her position without any indication of an attempt to flee. Instead, she concentrated on him as she waited for his advance. He was pleasantly surprised that she had chosen to fight.

"Very well, then." Amusement danced in his voice.

Without another word he sprung forward as he swiftly closed the gap between them. Without flinching she leapt above him. She gracefully twisted herself in the air as his fist grazed the spot she had previously occupied. Sensing energy spiking from his right, he turned to watch her gently land on one foot as rubble swirled around her.

Smiling, he charged her again. As he advanced he diverted to her left. He was too fast for her to counter as she moved the rocks in the original direction he had come from. The miscalculation left her side wide open. Seeing his shot, he side-kicked her. _Hard. _The blow launched her into the wall of a nearby building. He took to the air as he followed her trajectory, only to find the imprint of where she had landed. Sensing her behind him he spun while throwing out a ball of energy between her and the city's open street. Predictably, she dodged the blast by moving away from it and towards the building.

He had forced her mistake before she had the choice to make it. He timed her movement to his own. As she maneuvered herself away from the blast he ended up right behind her, trapping her between himself and the wall. Without hesitation he latched onto the back of her neck and thrust her against it. He laughed triumphantly as he gained the upper hand. He snaked his tail around her neck tightly as he released his hand to turn her around and goad over his prize.

Defiantly, she stared back at him with a hint of gratification. The look in her eyes was one that he had seen before. One that had been persistent enough in his thoughts that it forced him to escape to this world in the first place. He did not understand why she seemed so pleased to be in her position. The spite on her face with the sense that there was more to her choice to fight than what he had assumed pissed him off. On edge already, he couldn't understand why the purple-eyed woman looked at him with such confidence and familiarity. There was no struggle against the pressure around her neck. No begging for her life to be spared.

She was too calm. Too bold. The hair on the back of his neck rose as he grew suspicious of some kind of trap.

"Who are you?!" He snarled, not hiding the sudden rage swelling in his voice. He tightened his rope-like appendage around her neck as he asserted his intentions.

Her eyes widened slightly as she gasped her response, "I could tell you, but it will be easier to show you."

She reached up with both hands and gripped his tail at the point where it began to wind around her throat. The alarming surge of her energy combined with a blinding jolt of electricity that traveled up his tail, along his spine and to his head was beyond what he had expected from her. Unable to force a retreat from the excruciating shocks traveling through him, the muscles in his tail locked up from the electricity which bound them together. He doubled over in pain. Each pulse made his vision blur until there was only gray.

Emotions starting pouring from somewhere deep inside that he had once carefully barricaded. The dam he built was in shambles as the onslaught of his once-controlled suffering washed over him. He saw visions of his mother and father, once happy as they entered his mind. He saw himself playing in the palace gardens as his mother kept a watchful eye over him. Memories of his father tucking him into bed as he read bedtime stories of the Super Saiyan of Legend and the Oozaru of Old assaulted him. He recalled the pride of learning that he was going to become a big brother as he laid his head on his mother's stomach, straining to hear the soft fluttering sound within. Pain and guilt drowned him as he watched from his hiding spot, staying put as instructed, as his mother, father and unborn brother bled out with Frieza towering over them. Every piece of his childhood that he had tried desperately to keep in the shadows pounded through his mind as they rejoiced in their release. Finally, the images calmed until one remained.

_Her_

She filled his vision. The unpolished attempts of servitude. The fluttering of scarves as tantalizing flashes of skin broke through. Defiance despite her inability to escape followed up anguish as she refused to submit. Her kindness towards him despite his reputation. The way his skin sizzled against the touch of hers. Everything he ran from was now suffocating him. As he felt himself stare into _her_ face other emotions swirled through him. Joy, anger, worry, pain. Feelings that had no picture…no starting point of reference. He felt a terrible loss then, like someone had ripped everything from his chest and he was left with nothing. A feeling worse than watching his parents die.

Hatred and sorrow filled him.

His vision began to clear as he felt himself gaining control of his senses. His hatred overflowed beyond him. It pushed the pulsing shocks out of his mind, his body and his tail. He was regaining control again. He felt himself stand as his captive's eyes watched his every move. She was still against the wall, still held in place by his tail, her grip on it relinquished. She looked calm, almost smug as a smile played on her lips.

"What did you do to me?" He whispered, still plagued by the onslaught of emotions. Finding his voice as he latched onto his hatred, he bellowed, "What the _hell_ did you do to me!"

She looked at him, into him, unwavering in the slightest. "It had to be done. You need to feel. It will save you so you can save us all."

Her cryptic response was the last straw. Tightening his tail tighter he cut off her air. Instead of the normal struggle he was used to as he watched the life slip from his victims, she was calm and without fight. Her knowing eyes continued to bore into him as that smile stayed transfixed. He watched as her breathing stopped, listened as her heart slowed. Finally, she closed her eyes and all signs of life came to a halt.

Discarding her into a crumpled heap, he looked her over once more. The words she uttered repeated in his mind.

_It will save you so you can save us all_.

He felt exhausted from the surge of emotions still coursing through his veins. Although filled with memories he had suppressed for so long, the hollowness left in their wake was overwhelming. He needed to find out what _she_ had to do with all this. He didn't understand why the now lifeless figure had forced _her_ to the forefront of his mind.

With a huff he made his decision. He would return to his comrades and finish their assignment, then track _her_ down and demand to know what this witchcraft was all about.

…

Bulma rummaged through the bin in front of her. She was looking for something she saw earlier in the week. Deciding it was the wrong container, she looked at the crate on the top shelf. Through the grating she recognized a corner of one of the digital faces she had been looking for. Balancing on the bin she was just rummaging in, she lengthened herself as much as she could to reach the crate. Fingers barely brushing against the cold metal, she stepped on the next shelf up and pulled herself higher. Her hand had just encircled the wiring when she heard a loud _snap_. Without any more warning the shelf she was standing on broke and a loud _crash_ followed as she tumbled to the ground. Landing on her back, she gripped her precious cargo as it thudded onto her chest, triggering a coughing fit from the air knocked out of her. Trying to gasp in air, she forced herself to stop coughing as she listened.

She didn't hear anyone responding to the racket she just caused.

As she untangled herself from the mess she made, she shook her head in wonder in the lack of security she had first expected in the ship. Quickly learning that destruction was a commonality, the arrogance of the ships' occupants was astounding. Over the past few days she had witnessed fights break out in the dining hall over the smallest of social infractions. There was one particular fight that a huge ball of light ended up flying in her direction. If it wasn't for Amisty grabbing her at the last minute and pulling her to safety, the fear that held her frozen in place would have been her end. The gaping hole emptying into the hallway was all that was left of the unfortunate wall that had stopped it. The damage still hadn't been repaired and she shivered every time she had to walk by it.

Once she straightened herself out, she cleaned up the mess she had created. Taking the crate with the clocks and stashing it on the bottom shelf of her cleaning cart, she surrounded her newly found prize with her cleaning supplies to hide it from view. With one final sweep of the walk-in closet, she shut the door and hurried to her room. Once she was inside, she grabbed the crate and shoved the cart out of the way. Quickly going to her closet, she opened the laundry chute hidden by the false floor. She placed the crate in the hole and attached it to two make-shift hangers wired to the sides of the chute. Holding her breath, she gently let go of the crate and watched it swing precariously from the hangers. Satisfied that her bounty would not end up traveling to the laundry room, she placed the floor back to its rightful position.

Hurriedly, she cleaned her room that she wisely chose to do last. As she smoothed out the bedspread, a soft knock was heard at her door. She opened it to find Amisty, mildly bruised with a few fresh cuts across her face, at her threshold.

"Oh gods, what happened to you?" Bulma exclaimed as she ushered her friend inside.

Amisty responded with a weak wave of dismissal at her concern.

"Never mind me. I need to get you ready for tonight. We've been relieved from lunch duty today." Amisty kept her voice quiet as she smiled weakly at Bulma. She seemed sad and worried. Her concern for Bulma was apparent.

Bulma had tried not to fret over the evening by distracting herself with getting her hands on the forgotten clocks. She needed them for her plan of escape to work. Her distraction worked so well that her evening duties completely slipped her mind. Now she understood why Amisty looked at her with such sadness.

Her probation was over. Tonight was her first night fulfilling the _other_ slave duties bestowed to her.

It would also be her first night alone with Zarbon. She tried to swallow around the lump in her throat as she remembered his promise when he cornered her in his room. She was conflicted with the dread that it might also be her last.


	10. Chapter 10

_I do not own DBZ. This chapter is a bit steamy...but mildly. You've been warned so enjoy! _

* * *

Bulma walked around the room once more as Amisty's gaze followed her. Everything in the room filled her with dread. She took in all of the devices surrounding her that was intended for both pain and pleasure, fully aware of who would be experiencing each. Manacles were embedded in one open wall at various heights and lengths. About six feet away from another wall of the room had a large saltire cross that took up most of the space. A locked armoire, ornate with intricate carvings and designs, was positioned next to the cross. A large bed with more shackles and manacles attached to the sides took up the third wall. Finally, an odd bench that mildly reminded her of a gymnastics vaulting horse was near the door. The décor in the room sickened her as it showed similarities to some of Master Hearken's rooms.

The carpet was a plush maroon almost exactly like those throughout his quarters. Bulma was now convinced it was used to conceal stains left behind from blood. The fitted bed sheet had the same color as the velvet fabric absorbed the light from the room. Wall sconces scattered along the walls cast the light throughout the room. It was bright enough to see every nook, but not harsh on the eyes. They threw a warm and deceptively welcome glow. The walls were covered in stone. She was unsure if it was real or a façade to keep in check with the room's décor. The ceiling was painted black and the shackles hanging from them would have gone almost undetected if she didn't know to look for them.

"Ready?" Amisty's voice broke through her thoughts. Bulma nodded a 'yes' as she moved to her place in the center of the room. She was too nervous to form a proper reply.

Amisty stepped towards her as she wrapped Bulma into a warm embrace. Pulling away, Amisty rested her hands on Bulma's shoulders. They looked at each other for what felt like the last time. Amisty looked drained. All of her words of support and courage were now replaced with tired smiles and eyes filled with sadness. Bulma's heart hurt for what this place was turning her friend into. It also made her feel hopeless with the knowledge that she would more than likely suffer the same fate.

"Be strong for me." Amisty finally said. "I'm always looking over you to protect you. Despite how bad things may get, just remember that I'm always here for you. Okay?"

Swallowing hard, Bulma forced herself to reply, "Thank you."

One final squeeze and Amisty left Bulma to face the green-haired demon alone. With shaky legs, she assumed the now-hated position on the floor. She neatly spread her black skirt out around her knees and heels. She adjusted the thin material of her black tank top so it wouldn't sink too low to expose her cleavage. The compulsion to hide herself in the fabric was too strong despite knowing that it wouldn't be on for long. With a calming breath, she settled her nerves and focused on the floor. Despite the promise he threatened her with almost a week ago, she resolved that he would only have her body. Her mind, however, was hers to control.

It felt like an eternity before she heard the sound of the door opening and closing. Silence filled the room as she heard the figure moving around her. The armoire behind her clicked open as she heard it being unlocked. Sounds of objects being moved around and drawers opening and shutting filled the emptiness as the occupant gathered and organized his tools for the evening. Closing her eyes, she took several deep breaths to push down the panic attack she could feel brewing. Not able to see what he was getting out had put her mind in a frenzy. The terror of breaking proper protocol in his presence was the only thing that kept her from looking at him or running away. Finally, she heard the drawers slam shut and the doors close.

"Stand." The harmonically eloquent voice filled her with queasiness. Reluctantly she obeyed.

She heard him move closer until he was in her field of vision. The same disgusting boots he wore at the auction were in her direct line of sight. She suppressed the shudder that threatened to run down her spine.

"Strip." The next command sickened her further. She felt her hesitation as she willed her arms and hands to move. Biting her bottom lip so as to hold back any smart remarks, she slowly undressed. She felt her cheeks and neck grow hot with embarrassment.

She stood completely naked before him. There was no layer of clothing to protect her from his blows. She didn't think her humiliation could get any worse until she heard his next command.

"Eyes up."

Forcing her chin up, she complied. She watched as Zarbon looked her over from head to toe. His menacing grin of appreciation and lust made her want to run away screaming. He stepped closer to her as he ran his fingers through her freshly washed and straitened hair. Her skin crawled from the proximity. She heard him take a deep breath as he inhaled her fragrance. A quiet hum of appreciation resounded from him.

She wanted to punch him in the throat.

"My, you are a beauty." He murmured. "I've been looking forward to this all week." He grabbed her wrist and guided her to the saltire cross. Placing his hands around her hips, he pushed her forward until the cold wood was against her skin. Shivering, she felt her nipples tighten from the cool contact.

Lifting her arms along the top diagonal pieces, she felt him tighten the shackles around her wrists. They were bulky and lined with a softer fabric. She almost retched at the thought that they were probably made that way to allow for longer suspension compared to the cuffs she was accustomed to. She felt his boot push her feet apart. Unwillingly, she allowed him to do so until they were far enough apart that she had to half hang from the shackles around her wrists. She felt the same kind of cuffs click closed around her ankles that were attached to the bottom of the cross. Testing out her bonds, she found herself to be securely fastened to the wood facing the wall. Her back side was exposed to Zarbon and the remainder of the objects in the room. She felt herself panic as she struggled against the fabric-lined metal and cool wood holding her in place. Yanking on the chains, she tried to break herself free. She knew her attempts would get her nowhere but the realization of being left naked and alone in the presence of a sadistic monster while immobilized sent her over the edge. She had momentarily lost all of her self-control.

"Enough!" Zarbon said sharply. The directness in his voice caused her to regain control of herself. She tried to steady her raspy breathing as she forced her body to be still. She could hear her heart frantically pounding in her ears.

One breath. Two.

Gradually the panic subsided. Zarbon walked to the side of the cross that was facing the wall. He stood so that he was the only thing in her field of vision.

"Such a pretty, panicky thing." He rested his hand on her cheek as he looked at her. "Do you know what you do to me when I see you struggle like that? It makes me think of all the ways I can make you dance around my whip as you try to avoid it."

She glared at him with her reply. Not brazen enough to tell him what she thought of his idea of foreplay, she forced herself to keep her mouth shut even though she didn't hold back her glare.

His eyes flashed in amusement as he placed his face closer to hers. Moving his hand from her cheek to the back of her head, she was trapped as he gently kissed her. She pushed her head into the palm of his hand as she tried to retreat, but it was hopeless. He kept her in place as he gently teased her mouth with his. Her mind screamed in disgust as she pulled against her restraints once more. He pressed his lips more firmly against hers as he took his time coaxing her response. She felt her body start to relax as her mind fogged with the onslaught of his lust.

_No, no, no, no, no!_ She felt her brain scream.

Breaking the kiss, he moved away as he walked behind her. She tensed as she remembered the last time he had her in a position similar to this. Holding her breath she braced for his first blow. She almost jumped out of her skin as she felt his hands lightly trace over the contours of her back. He expertly caressed her buttocks and inner thighs. Unable to see him and forced to only feel, she couldn't help but relax into the gentle touches. The warmth of him drew nearer as she felt his body press against the length of her back. His arms reached around to her breasts, free of any obstacles. He messaged them as he softly breathed on her neck and pressed himself more firmly into her. She could feel his erection through his pants as he pushed himself against her.

Her head swam with confusion as she felt herself losing in the battle of wills. She hated him as he forced her body to betray her. She could feel herself press back into him and at the same time her brain screamed for her to do _something_ to get him away from her. Her breathing quickened as he played with her nipples while her stomach felt like it was going to start heaving. As his one hand moved again to her back and down to the top of her crack she froze. Cold dread washed over her as she felt him move over her folds. His fingers hovered there for a moment as her brain reeled.

"No!" She finally choked out. "Please."

She felt his chest vibrate as his laughter rumbled in her ear. "And what makes you think that you have a choice, slave?"

He kept his hand immobile as he continued playing with her breast. He licked and sucked her neck until she once again felt her resolve begin to slip. His firmly pinched her nipple, causing her to cry out in surprise. Her back arched as her heat pressed against his awaiting fingers. Waiting for that moment, he rubbed them through her slickness. She hung there miserable as he forced her response to rub against him. She had to do something to get him away from her.

"You must be a real bad ass when the only way you can get sex is to tie up an unwilling partner." She said through gritted teeth. This might not be the smartest decision of her life, but it was the only one she could think of.

She felt his hands pause as her words registered. She didn't need to see his face to know she had started to irritate him. Closing her eyes, she gathered up the courage for her next comment.

"Did your mom actually want to have a boy? By the way you look and dress, I'd almost put money on her trying to raise you as the little girl she always dreamed of." She heard his sharp breath as his hands retreated from her body as she struck a nerve.

Her mind was just starting to clear from his retreat as she felt the awful slice across her shoulders. She had expected his reaction to be severe but that didn't lesson the pain. Bracing herself for another blow, she decided to push him farther. She wanted to make sure that he stayed away from her most intimate of areas.

"Is that all you got? I guess I was right, you hit like a girl too!" The strike followed almost before she finished her sentence. It dragged across her from one shoulder blade to the opposite buttocks. She swallowed the howl of pain as she felt it cut deeper than the first. Without time to drag in a breath, three more followed with the same severity. Sobs broke free as her back ignited into blinding pain. She knew she went too far but she needed to do something to keep her body from becoming his.

"There's that mouth I was _so_ hoping was going to make an appearance." He spat. Hatred and mild satisfaction heavy in his voice.

Another stroke sliced in the middle of her back. Catching her off guard, she heard her scream of agony echo against the stone wall. The rest of her resolve broke as she limply hung from the shackles. Blow after merciless blow followed as she helplessly sobbed and screamed her discomfort. He began to pace each strike so that she felt each and every one. Finally there was a pause when the room door slammed open.

Lost in her own grief and pain, she didn't register a conversation behind her until is escalated into yelling.

"Fine you stupid piece of shit! Take the fucking whore." Zarbon's voice echoed in the room. "The next chance I get, I'm killing both her and you. Mark my words, when we're out on assignment again you better watch your fucking back!"

She heard Zarbon storm out as the door slammed behind him. Horrid silence followed. She tried to turn to see who else was in the room with her. Despite her position, she didn't care she was naked and shackled in an erotically compromising position. She was just thankful that the onslaught of pain finally ended. She didn't hear any movement but was surprised to see the figure that appeared in front of her.

Her heart jumped at the sight of him as he stood with a powerful confidence she hadn't noticed before. The predictable scowl that always shadowed his features was now replaced with a dangerous undertone. The look in his eyes was a sharp contrast to the look she had seen previously. A vicious stare filled with malice and a promise of death. She shrunk back as the coldness of his eyes pierced through her.

The state of his armor and clothing was a clear indicator of why his gaze had changed. His armor was badly damaged and cracked with chunks missing from the shoulders. The sleeves of his shirt were tattered and torn exposing charred flesh and deep wounds. Pale crimson stained his bleach-white gloves and boots. Dried blood frozen in its downward decent to the ground caked his armor and clothing. He looked like the embodiment of death in its most real form.

Cold dread washed through her as she suddenly became terrified of the man that she had convinced herself was the only one with a shred of compassion in his heart on this entire ship. Wherever he had gone had altered him into something that she instinctively feared. If she wasn't attached to the cross, she would have run away screaming an apology while begging for Zarbon to take her back.

She was trapped with him alone, naked and painfully bleeding while his twisted gaze bore through her skull. Her breath caught as Vegeta took off his gloves and reached for her throat.


	11. Chapter 11

_I do not own DB. I wanted to give a special shout out and thank you to Starcrust and Anonymonomanamo for helping me with this chapter. It was a struggle to get written correctly but they helped me tremendously!_

* * *

She shivered under his touch as he reached around her neck to pull her hair forward, covering her chest. He had business to attend to and the sight of her exposed breasts was a distraction he wasn't here to indulge in. Just as it was last time, her hair was soaked in blood. He watched her as she eyed him nervously. He could tell that the remnants of battle he still wore petrified her.

The foul mood he was in forced him to physically restrain himself from snapping Zarbon's neck when he entered the room. The entire trip home had made him feel like his head was going to explode. Despite his attempts to try and rid himself from his memories by destroying town after town, none of his normal fail-safe's worked. The isolation in his pod made the recurring flashbacks of his past even worse.

He was already planning on finding her the moment he stepped foot back on the ship. To his surprise, her friend was waiting at the loading station. He didn't understand how she knew he was going to arrive or that he was landing on that particular dock. As he unfolded himself from inside she was already kneeling at his feet. The annoyance of the slave's protocol manifested the impulse to kick her across the station. Instead, her pleading eyes and distress caught his attention enough to suppress the desire to send her flying. He gave her permission to speak.

"It's Bulma, sir." She pleaded. "Zarbon has her. Please…sir…please intervene. It's her first night of servitude and he's going to kill her. He was gloating about it the other day. I left them alone less than twenty minutes ago. Please don't let him kill her!"

He didn't answer her plea. Instead he stepped over her and towards the slave chambers. He wasn't moving out of compassion. Instead, it was his own personal agenda that propelled him forward. He needed answers and she was _going_ to give them to him. A dead body wasn't going to comment when he demanded a response.

He heard her cries long before he found his way to the door. He strained to listen for her in between her yells of agony to find which room she was in. Each lengthening pause drove him ahead faster while his concern about Zarbon completing his scheme grew. He knew he was at the right door when her scent mixed with blood and desire enveloped his senses. His temper flared as he envisioned Zarbon fucking her. Jealousy gripped him as he kicked the door open.

Ignoring the stunned look of shock and outrage on Zarbon's face, Vegeta focused solely on her. She hung from the saltire cross naked with her back to them. Her arms were stretched above her and along the diagonal boards, tense with pain as she used them to support her weight instead of her legs. Her back and buttocks had gashes gaping open as blood snaked down her body. Her hair hung limply as the ends soaked up the blood they were laying against. He watched as her sobs shook her, causing the chains to rattle with a metallic song. He wasn't sure what she said or did to harass Zarbon into using such a heavy hand. By the anger pulsating from Zarbon and the damage he had inflicted in that short period of time, he fathomed it was something intentionally stupid.

It was then that the smell of her full arousal hit him. It was overpowering to his senses as he inhaled. Succulent and intoxicating. The heady scent mixed with the smell of blood manifested the sudden urge to bury himself inside of her. He shook his head to rid the vision of taking her while she hung suspended and helpless.

"Get out." Vegeta snarled at Zarbon.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, barging in here?" Zarbon retorted, finally finding his voice through his gaping mouth. "You can have whatever's left of her when I'm finished."

Vegeta turned on Zarbon as he allowed his fury to take hold. "You can either leave or I'll throw you out of here myself. Get. _Out_."

"Like you can even try!" He snorted. "Do you not remember that every time we've sparred, I've left you in a pile of your own filth? Go run away with your tail between your legs before I remind you of how pathetically weak you are!"

Vegeta balled his hands into fists as he fought the itch to blast Zarbon into the next room. The woman's nerves were shot enough by the looks of it. He doubted she could handle a full-out fight between the two of them while helplessly chained. He needed her to be able to talk to him, not traumatize her into a muted state. He smirked as he recalled a tasty tidbit of information he heard Nappa telling the other two over the scouters prior to their return.

"If you do not leave this instant, I will let the entire ship know that you've been fucking Frieza's personal whore on the side!" Vegeta heard his words echo against the stone walls. "I'd love to watch them scrape the remnants of your insides off the walls after Frieza forces your confession. Do you think he'll do it quietly or make it his usual spectacle?"

Zarbon's disbelief of being found out was clearly written on his face. Enraged at allowing himself to be outsmarted by Vegeta, he threw the whip in his hand and stalked to the door.

"Fine you stupid piece of shit! Take the fucking whore." Zarbon retorted loudly. "The next chance I get, I'm killing both _her_ and _you_. Mark my words, when we're out on assignment again you better watch your fucking back!"

Vegeta didn't flinch as Zarbon slammed the door behind him. He stood silently, struggling to rein in his anger. The morbid need to kill that he always relied on for comfort throbbed in time with his heart. He needed answers so it would do no good to kill her. It was then that he moved in front of her and covered her so he could concentrate.

"Please don't hurt me." She whimpered.

He hardened the expression on his face. He wanted to make sure she continued to be fearful of him so she would answer him honestly. "Who are you?" he asked.

He watched a perplexed expression cross her face. "Bulma. Bulma Briefs, sir. I…I though you knew that already."

He pressed his lips into a flat line as he showed his displeasure at her attempt to evade the question with her head games. "Let me rephrase the question," he allowed his irritation to flow into his voice. "_What_ are you?"

"I'm a….ah…a human being?" she stammered, her confusion apparent.

He gave a low growl that rumbled in his throat. Her games were starting to become infuriating to his already shot patience. He needed to give her some incentive to give him what he wanted. He walked to the side of the cross so she could still see him and his unhindered access to her fresh wounds. The chains tinkered as she shifted nervously, craning her neck to look at him.

"_What_ _are_ you?" He questioned again as he made it a point to eye up the gashes in her skin. He would push her farther is she continued to be uncooperative. He was hoping his wordless threat would give her an idea of what his next step would be if she continued to dance around his inquiry.

"I'm…I'm not sure I understand the question, sir?" She anxiously licked her lips. "I'm an earthling…a human."

Although she was being truthful with him on the surface, he could tell she was hiding something. His next action was sure to pull the information from her that he sought. He'd always been a fan of torture to extract the knowledge he was looking for. This time, though, it was different. There was a heavy feeling of guilt about what he was about to do to her to get her to open up. He stepped farther behind her as he hid his face from her worried expression. He felt himself falter in his resolve as he retreated behind her.

With a loud snarl, more to reassure his confidence then effect, he thrust his hand against one of the worst of the bleeding wounds. "_What are you_?!" he yelled, digging his nails into her soft flesh.

She jerked against her bonds as she threw her head back, howling in pain.

"A scientist!" She cried out, her body convulsing as she openly wept. "I'm a scientist! I was one back on Earth. Before I was kidnapped...I…I worked in the labs!"

"Is that how you did this to me?" He probed, not relinquishing his grip. "Did you create something to bewitch me?"

Her crying softened some as she tried to process his question. Finally she responded, "Did I…_what_?"

"Do not toy with me woman!" He dug his nails in harder causing another round of hysterics. His stomach turned from the pain he was inflicting. He didn't understand why this was causing him turmoil. He forced himself through it. "What did you construct to ensnare me in your trap?"

"Nothing!" She gasped. "I didn't do anything to you! Please stop hurting me. I'll tell you anything you want. Anything! Just please stop!" Her voice broke with her sincerity. She might not have been as forthcoming as he had wished, but he could tell that she was finally being honest.

As he withdrew his hand she released a heavy sob of relief. Checking his posture and fixing his expression back into a hard stare, he walked back in front of her. He left her blood on his hand to further the effect.

"I take one's word seriously. Do not take my kindness as a means to buy time to evade me. If you are not forthcoming with the information I seek, you will find yourself back in this position as I continue what I have started here. I will grant you a concession for now."

She looked at him with eyes half closed as she hung exhausted from the chains. Her face contorted in suffering, apparent with her misery. Her breathing was shallow as her gaze drifted to her blood dripping from his hand and splattering onto the carpet. Any resistance against him that she might have harbored was shattered. She was too tired to show any fear towards him as her eyes fluttered back to his. The same pleading look she gave him when he was first moved to intervene on her behalf made its appearance again. Just like the first time, he felt inclined to ease her suffering. This time however, his thoughts were heavy with the responsibility that it was caused by his doing. She needed to rest and he needed to have a talk with Frieza.

He knelt to release the shackles around her feet. Moving her feet under her hips, he pushed up on her ass to force her to bear weight on her legs. Standing, he reached up and released a wrist. He placed her hand on the wood so she could balance as he freed the other one. Taking her arm across his shoulders, he hoisted most of her weight onto himself as he helped her walk to the bed. Once she was sitting on it on her own, he went to the armoire to get her a blanket.

As he rummaged through the drawers to find one, he couldn't fathom why he cared enough to get it for her in the first place. Although he had seen his share of valiancy and honor in battle, he couldn't help but respect her. She was different. He had never met a female who wasn't a trained warrior that could withstand the situations this one put herself into. Most impressive of all, she still held her dignity intact. Finding what he was looking for, he turned back to find her still sitting up and carefully watching him cautiously as he strode towards her.

He gently wrapped the blanket around her and tucked in the corners. Bending over her, he coiled one arm under her legs and the other gently around her back. Effortlessly he lifted her from the bed and balanced her against his chest as he cradled her in his arms. Although her resiliency was stronger than most, she felt so fragile as he held her. He exited the room and walked down the hall while carrying her. He didn't know which room in the slave quarters was hers so he was stuck bringing her to his quarters once again.

"Why are you suddenly being nice to me?" Her voice hoarse and laden with suspicion.

_Good question_, he thought to himself.

"You answered my question so I had no need to interrogate you further." He replied.

"Interrogate?" She quietly snorted. "That's what you people call it?"

He ignored her comment as he rounded the corner near his room. He was already annoyed by his new charge.

…

"_The plan is in motion,"_ the voice on the intercom stated. "_It is only a matter of time before the events that have been calculated take place. Everything is moving forward smoothly._"

"Good. Keep me informed of the progress. I will tell him about your update." was the reply as the transmission was disconnected.

Walking away from the desk, she paused in front of the mirror hanging from the wall. She stopped to look at the bruising around her neck. It was healing quite nicely, being only a few days old. Brushing her purple hair forward to cover it the best she could, she smiled at her reflection.

_Yes_, she thought to herself as her violet eyes danced in amusement. _Everything is falling into place exactly as was foretold._


	12. Chapter 12

_I do not own DBZ. _

_I wanted to give a special thank you to those who have been reviewing! Thanks to the holidays, I haven't been able to respond like normal, but those that have been reviewing...thank you! Also, to my guest reviewers: I appreciate your taking the time to add your thoughts! Now onto the story!_

* * *

Bulma stayed motionless while being carried down the long corridors. With each soft jostle, another feeling of vertigo crashed over her as her vision blurred, the buzzing in her ears growing louder. She was shivering despite the soft blanket around her. As it absorbed the blood, she could feel the damp saturation spread slowly across her skin. She felt cold. So tired and cold.

The barrier of fabric that separated her from the gruesome splattering of death he wore was little comfort to now comprehending the wickedness he was capable of. It sickened her. She wanted to shove herself out of his arms but knew it would be a wasted effort. His ruthlessness proved that she wouldn't get far, let alone survive her wounds if she managed to get away. He'd probably kill her from sheer animosity alone.

As they rounded another corner to what she recognized as the way to his room she felt her heart drop. A massive figure whose balding head was a foot or so from the ceiling stood in the hall. His enormous muscles bulged from his broad shoulders while they disappeared under armor similar to Vegeta's. His face was etched with lines of age, complimented by scars of war. His small eyes swept over her as he studied the blanket she was wrapped in. They narrowed in suspicion as they darted to Vegeta. Next to him stood a man more of a normal height. Dark raven hair half-heartedly stood from his head, almost as if it gave up standing on end but was too stubborn to lay flat. He looked much younger and less hostile than the other. Muscles not as bulky, but defined with strength and power none the less, graced his frame. He didn't hide the surprise on his face as he looked at them making their approach. Uneasiness filled her as she noted the similar features between the three men. Both of them wore the same signs of battle as Vegeta.

"Hey!" The younger one called out. "You left in such a rush, we were unsure of what you needed us to do before we hit the regen tanks. We came to find you to check up with you first. We didn't know you had…things… to take care of."

She averted her eyes as their gaze fell on her again. They seemed unsettled seeing her in Vegeta's arms, making her feel like she was doing something wrong.

"Take the slave with you then." Vegeta replied. "I have business to attend to. Make sure they see her quickly. Bring her back to my room when you're finished. I'm not done with her yet and she's no good to me dead."

The younger one stepped forward and awkwardly took her from Vegeta. As she was shifted around, explosions of red swam in front of her. She swallowed hard as she tried to see through the tinted haze. It was to the point that she couldn't even muster the want to cry or protest the movement. There was just a throbbing ache, growing duller as she felt more frigid.

Without a backwards glance to his comrades, Vegeta stalked away to whatever errand he had spoken of. Reluctantly she allowed herself to be carried to the medical wing of the ship. Her two new escorts walked silently as they wound through the corridors. Trying to focus on anything other than them, she found there was nothing to occupy her thoughts. She could sense their unease towards her as she caught them exchanging odd looks while stealing glances at her.

The entrance inside couldn't have come fast enough as she was carried through the threshold. Inside was a sterile white room with a low desk. A tall and thin green gangly man stood from his seat at the desk as they entered. He looked her over then indicated for them to follow him through the large double doors. He pointed to a gurney in the hallway and told the one holding her to place her down. As she was lowered onto it and shifted lying face down, she no longer felt the pain as she was being jostled around again. Instead she felt numb. She turned her face towards the wall to escape the two men's scrutiny. She wanted to close her eyes, but every time she did she saw Vegeta's hateful ones. The image frightened her enough to fight off any kind of sleep beckoning to her.

"What happened to her?" He questioned as he peeled off the blanket that had begun to stick to her wounds.

"We're not quite sure," responded a deep baritone voice. "We were asked to bring her on our way here."

"Hmm." She felt herself being poked and prodded, probably to see the extent of her injuries. "Well, whoever this was sure did a number on her, looks like another human we had in here a few days ago that we had to treat. Same kind of damage. I'll take her from here and get everything set. Go on ahead to the usual tanks and let the attendant there know what you need."

Without another word, the wall drifted away as she was being wheeled into a different room. Inside was familiar beeping and hissing sounds that reminded her of the humming of her lab back home. It sent a sad twinge of homesickness that she hadn't felt in a long time. Along a wall she was facing was a small yellow tank with "Acetylene" stamped down the side in bold red. Catching her wandering interest, she found it odd to have a gas used for welding in a room designated for medical duties.

"I'm going to have to sedate you before we can put you in the tank." The attendant's words pulled her from a plan she was starting to formulate as she lay quietly. It was the final piece she needed to make everything work to get off of this awful ship and back to whatever home she might have left.

Turning her head to acknowledge that she heard him, she tried to open her mouth to speak. No sound came out as she tried to say the simple word of _okay_. Her mouth felt dry and an odd tin-like taste was present. She tried to swallow but there was no saliva to cooperate. Distressed, she looked up at his odd green face and saw sympathetic understanding reflecting back. It was enough reassurance to give up trying to talk and rest the side of her head back down where it was before on the pad.

"You're going to feel a pinch on your arm. Take a few breaths and relax. Since this is your first time in the tank, we want to make sure you don't wake up." She felt the mentioned prick of a needle in the large muscle of her arm. "You'll be completely surrounded by fluid but you'll be able to breathe through an oxygen mask. We don't want you in there and panicking. If you visit us again, we'll slowly make sure you're more aware of what's going on until you get used to it and don't need a sedative anymore. First I'll clean these marks out to stop any infection…"

His voice started to fade as the medicine worked its way into her system. Her gaze rested on the acetylene tank again as her eyelids grew heavy. The yellow color reminded her of his eyes. Intense, angry, hateful, cold eyes that made her want to fight the drowsiness engulfing her. As she closed them, she could see Zarbon's face surrounding their intensity. His face was twisted in grotesque disgust as it morphed into Vegeta's. He stared into her soul demanding answers to questions she didn't understand.

He was standing in front of her again. The question of who she was hung heavily in the air between them. She couldn't understand why he asked her that. She remembered telling him the first time they had met. She tried again, making sure to include her last name in case that's what he was asking for. She didn't remember giving it to him before. At her reply, his mouth deepened into a hard line. His eyes narrowed threateningly as he showed his obvious displeasure in her answer. She watched him pull in a breath as he gathered himself to try again, this time asking her what she was.

Her mind swirled as she tried to process what he had asked. Did he want her to tell him her gender? Her race? Her occupation? She decided that her race was the most logical and did her best to answer him again. She would give him whatever information he needed as long as it meant she could get off of the damned cross and as far from him as possible.

She quickly realized she had answered wrong as she watched the annoyance cross his face. She heard his low growl of warning as held himself back from some kind of tirade forming within. He walked to her side and looked her over. From his position, she knew he could both see and reach the damage Zarbon had inflicted. She tried to pull on her restraints to reposition herself to see him better, only accomplishing the ability to turn her head. _Damn Zarbon_.

He asked his question a second time. She eyed him uneasily as she started to tremble from the way he was staring at her backside. His eyes burned into hers as he wordlessly threatened what he was going to do if she didn't give him what he was looking for. She tried to let him know that she didn't know what he wanted her to say. She was hoping that clarification might help her avoid whatever horror he had planned for her. When she spoke, her mouth was dry. She licked her lips, swallowed and tried to answer with her race more clearly, still unclear about what he needed to know. She watched as an odd conflict seemed to battle inside of him as he looked at her. His eyes held something that wasn't visible before. It almost looked like sadness or pity was ebbing at his anger. As suddenly as his change in mood appeared, the evil stare was back convincing her it was imagined. Quietly he stepped out of her sight.

Stillness settled around her making her uneasy. She strained to hear any indication of where he was or what he was going to do to her. The seconds seemed to drag on forever until a noise behind her held her ridged with fear. A sound that she could only relate to a wild wolf snarling before killing its prey resounded in her ears. The verbal warning followed by his question was punctuated by a searing pain shooting through her spine. She felt his hand digging into her flesh making her buck wildly against her restraints, screaming out in agony. _Got to get away! I have to get him away and make it stop!_

Involuntarily, she offered him her occupation back home. It was the only answer her brain automatically went to as a possible explanation for her torture. Her body convulsed as she sobbed uncontrollably. Hearing his voice behind her, she tried to concentrate on what he was asking her next. She tried to quiet herself as she recalled the words floating in between the bursts of pain. _Did he ask if I bewitched him?_ The sheer oddness of his question mixed with the spasms had her asking him what he meant before her brain had a chance to form it into a respectable question.

His distemper overflowed in his voice as his yelling throbbed in her ears. His hand twitched then dug deeper. Blackness flickered in the edges of her vision as the pain blossomed anew. Her body shook as it convulsed from the assault. Too much, the pain was too much. She didn't know what he wanted from her, what he was accusing her of. He was gone. The man that saved her, protected her, had disappeared. Loss and sadness was overwhelming as the creature behind her continued to question what she did to him. How could she do anything purposefully to provoke to a person into being so cruel and horrid?

She resorted to begging. It was the only tactic she had left. Within moments he withdrew from her. She pulled in as much oxygen as possible, gasping between thankful tears.

_It stopped….thank the gods it stopped…_

He stepped in front of her once more with a satisfied look on his face. She didn't care about the words he was spitting out at her. She wanted to find a corner to crawl to, curl up in and let the rest of the evening pass as if she never existed. She was transfixed as she watched her blood fall from his hand to the floor. She forced herself to stop staring and found herself looking at his face again.

_Please let me go. You have what you want…just…leave me alone. Leave me here if you want._

She remembered that she couldn't even muster the strength to glare at him…or be frightened of him.

* * *

Vegeta's head spun as he faced the doors of Frieza's quarters. This was one of the stupidest ideas that he'd ever come up with.

Based on the marks Zarbon left, he knew she wouldn't last to the end of the week if he left her alone again. If she truly was a scientist, as she claimed, then she might be able to help him. For her to help him, though, he was going to need to keep her alive.

With a sigh he hit the buzzer along the side of the door.

"_Can I help you?"_ A pleasant voice drifted from the speaker.

"I need to speak with Frieza." He replied.

A buzzer sounded as the door unlocked. He yanked the door open and entered the front office. A petite woman sat at the desk. She smiled sweetly at him as she stood, noticeably putting distance between the two of them. At first he was puzzled by her reaction until he realized that he hadn't had a change to clean up yet.

"Mr. Vegeta, sir," her high pitched voice hurt his ears. "I don't believe Lord Frieza is expecting you. If you could wait one moment, I'll inform him that you're here."

She disappeared through the door behind the desk. Within moments, it reopened with her that he should follow. The door opened up into a large living area. A huge grey sectional took up the center of the room against an exotic black marble floor. Artwork from across the galaxies hung from the tall walls supporting a vaulted ceiling. It was circular, massive and showed off the extravagant power of its owner.

The room had him on edge. Anything that was related to Frieza always put him on edge, or in a foul mood.

Frieza sat sprawled on the couch with Amisty kneeling on the hard marble next to his feet. She seemed ridged and tense. Shifting nervously, she hung her head in a way that allowed her hair to hide her eyes from him. His narrowed in suspicion.

_Does Frieza not know that she met me at the landing station? Is she worried that my business here is because of her?_

As he drew near, Vegeta stopped and bowed his head in the usual sign of respect Frieza demanded. Frieza made no motion to get up.

"Vegeta," Frieza's voice almost hid his surprise. "What brings you here in such an odd hour?"

"Sir, I do hope my visit is not a grave inconvenience to you." He forced the cordial words out. "I do have a request, however I thought it unwise to wait until tomorrow."

He held his ground as Frieza moved to a more formal sitting position. Unsure of Frieza's mood, he stayed alert for any indication of their conversation going south and his need to protect himself. Frieza was known the blast first and forget to ask question because he saw questioning to be beneath him anyway.

"Go on," He prompted.

"I was curious to know," Vegeta paused to gather his thought, "If I could purchase the slave girl that goes by Bulma."


	13. Chapter 13

_I do not own DBZ_

* * *

The only one in the room that reacted to his question was Amisty. Vegeta registered her sharp inhale. Not entirely sure why she would react, he chose to ignore her.

Frieza stroked his chin as he contemplated Vegeta's request. Finally he said, "This is the first you've ever come to ask for a slave of your own. Why, exactly, are you interested in this one?"

Keeping his back ridged and stare unwavering he replied, "The slave is of interest to me. She has been poorly trained and does not respond well to authority. I believe I could have some enjoyment from her lack of discipline so that your investment is not dispatched and your investment wasted. I'm looking for a challenge."

There was a long silence as Frieza contemplated his words. Vegeta could tell that he did not completely buy his story. He quickly tried to think of some answers to possible questions to stay a few steps ahead and make his request more believable.

"Slave," Breaking the silence Frieza turned his attention to Amisty. "Go get something to drink for me."

She softly replied, "Yes, master," as she stood from her place on the floor and walked past Vegeta to get to the kitchen area. She kept her eyes down and away from him. As she passed, he noted her face was scrunched in thoughtful worry. Again, her reaction to his affairs was enough to raise suspicion.

"You do realize that this Earth woman you are requesting me to relinquish to you is in high demand by others on the ship? I'm not sure if you are willing to offer me the value of dealing with such trivial problems from those looking to use her services if I allow you a more permanent possession of her." Frieza's lips twisted in an ugly smirk. "However, if she is of that great an interest to you, I do believe we can work something out."

"I do not wish to pull her from her normal duties aboard the ship," Vegeta spoke quickly to make sure his terms were heard before Frieza made up his mind. "All I ask is that during the evening shift, she retires to my room and is available only to me so that I can work on her manners before a less patient Elite decides to permanently shut her up."

Amisty returned with a bubbling red drink. Kneeling in her designated spot, she offered the glass to Frieza. He took it from her with no further acknowledgement. She shifted so that she was hidden from Vegeta again.

"I've heard complaints from some that she lacks the ability to serve as well as the others." He said. "You may have her on two conditions. First, there is a planet that has been giving some of my special forces a particularly hard time. The life forms there are quite stubborn and are having a hard time dying. I want you to go there and help eradicate the vermin. Their planet has great value and is a definite asset. No blowing this one up. You will be sent out in a month."

"And my team? Will they be allowed to accompany me?" Something about him being sent alone didn't sit well.

"We will send them shortly after we send you. I would like them to make a quick stop before meeting up with you. They will be scheduled to arrive a day later." Frieza answered.

"I see . And the second stipulation?" Vegeta questioned.

Frieza's smirk grew wider and transformed into a wicked smile. "You are to prove to me that the slave trusts you and accepts you as her master. I do believe she has an acute fondness of the whip, or so I've been told. You are to prove her trust in you by doing a whipping scene in the arena for the entire crew to witness. She is not to resist you and must accept the lashes willingly. That way there is no doubt that she is yours and no others will think twice to touch her while you are on assignment."

Vegeta slowly swallowed at Frieza's words. He held his composure even though he knew that an impossible task had been set before him. No slave aboard the ship would _ever_ allow themselves to be whipped. Seeing as the last two run-ins with Zarbon had more than likely secured a strong distaste for such torture, he doubted she would ever _allow_ a whip to graze her skin. That compounded with what he did to her before he came here, he already knew that she wouldn't come near him by choice unless her life was threatened. He silently cursed at the predicament he put himself in.

Already knowing the answer, he still asked "And what becomes of her if she does not willingly submit to me?"

"Then I will have the pleasure of ridding the ship of her unwanted defiance in the arena for all to see. She will die and you will be sent off. Maybe I will find some other assignments in that sector that have been of difficulty for others to complete, too. But that will depend on how good of a show you put on. Do we have an agreement?"

"Yes." Vegeta attempted to sound more confident then he felt. He wanted to go find a wall, or face, to put his fist through.

"Then we have a deal. You have one month before your scene to prove that she wants you to be her master. The next day, you will be sent out regardless of the outcome. Slave, fetch the cuffs before Vegeta sees his way out."

"Yes master," was her automatic response as Amisty stood and walked to Vegeta. "Sir, if you could please follow me."

Her voice was laden with unease as she spoke to him. Following her back into the front office, he couldn't understand why she waited for him with such confidence and alarm earlier but now appeared nervous. He watched as she went to the desk and rummaged through a drawer. She pulled out a set of light tan leather cuffs. Holding them out for him to take, he closed his hands around hers and gave a forceful squeeze. Surprised, she looked up at him. He held her gaze as he studied her face. Immediately he could sense her discomfort at being trapped in his presence. Eyes wide, she turned her head away.

"I'm not sure what you're interest is in all of this," He growled quietly enough for only her to hear, "but it has caught my attention and I _will_ get to the bottom of it." Taking the cuffs from her, he turned and stalked out of the door.

Finally able to breathe, he wound his way to his favorite spot to think. He needed to figure out how he was going to convince the woman to help him reach his goal of overthrowing Frieza while making her act like she _wanted _to be with him. Winding through the halls, he neared his quarters and turned down the corridor before his room. Pushing through a glass door, he climbed the stairs until they spilled into a large room. It opened up into a huge glass bubble. Through the glass, he could see the stars and planets in the galaxy the ship was navigating through. It was completely dark with the exception of the light from the outside stars dimly illuminating the space. There were large white recliners scattered throughout the open floor space. It was normally empty in here, and tonight was no exception. Finding his usual recliner, the furthest away from the stairwell and close to the edge of the glass, he lay back with the cuffs in his hands. He left his gloves in the dungeon room; his oversight allowed him the opportunity to absentmindedly run them through his fingers. The luxurious fabric on the inside of the leather reminded him of the soft fur of his tail, uncurled and hanging off the side of the chair. The leather was soft and flexible. Much different than the usual equipment found in the dungeon rooms. The metal links and clips on them were expertly crafted to prevent ripping or becoming separated from the leather while attached to something.

They were the regal mark of ownership. Something he never thought he would ever have the want or need to acquire.

He was lost in thought as he stared at the miniature beacons of light sliding through the darkness.

_How the hell am I going to earn her trust? I don't even know where to start. _

He tried to reflect on his encounters where he was able to gain trust from someone. None came to mind. Nappa, Raditz and Kakarot didn't trust him. It was the expectation to follow orders. The code of the Saiyans demanded that royalty was to be respected. Any orders given were to be followed without question or argument. Resistance was grounds for loss of life. Through their years serving him, they had done their duty and followed orders without question, or more accurately without spoken questions. He wouldn't define that as trust. But he trusted them to continue following his orders. Nappa had been the advisor of the court and continued to fill that role with Vegeta even though the court ceased to exist decades ago. Vegeta took great merit in Nappa's opinions, even if he chose to disagree and go with a different decision.

The last of the people that he had experienced trust with was his family. But that wasn't earned. It was automatically given.

He always threatened, tortured, killed, decimated, pillaged, raped or demanded to acquire the things he needed and wanted. He was too young when Frieza took him to learn the rewards of giving and receiving trust. It was obvious that Frieza knew that. Is that why he put the task in front of him in the first place? He was being set up to fail. Just another manipulation tactic to twist Vegeta's soul into a more ugly state.

As the shadow of space blanketed the spacecraft, Vegeta decided that going with a threat would be his best option. Trade her safety for her science. If she couldn't provide the knowledge and calculations to help his ability to reach the strength and power of the saiyans of legend and free himself from Frieza, he would kill her himself. What were a few extra months of service to snuff the life from an uncooperative slave? He would make sure it was worth it.

Deciding on his plan, he smiled. The end of his tail flicked in amusement as he envisioned the fear in her eyes as he punished her for her insubordination. Now in higher spirits, he left his place of comfort to go to the regen tanks.

Afterwards, he would make sure she would agree to his plan or suffer the consequences.

* * *

"The mission is _what?!_" The male voice echoed in the room.

"Hearken, I don't know what happened." The woman tried to stop her voice from shaking. She hated being the bearer of bad news. "Everything was going according to plan. This wasn't in the prophecy. I don't know what this deviation is going to do to our mission."

"We're going to have to stick to the plan, Artiria." Hearken rubbed his hand across his forehead. " I just don't understand how we're so close to being compromised. Maybe we shouldn't interfere further. Not until after Vegeta leaves. If we interfere too much, it won't matter the outcome. The course of time will change and our only hope is gone forever."

Artiria pushed the purple strands away from her face in frustration. "I'm not sure that's going to work. Our informant was told that whether the spectacle is successful or not, she'll be killed. We need to keep her alive. If not, everything we've worked for will be lost."

Hearken pushed himself away from his desk and began pacing behind it. This was not supposed to go this way. It was a miracle that he had accidentally extracted Bulma from Earth in the first place. He was able to get her a spot on Frieza's ship even before he realized who, exactly, she was. She was the crucial piece to the prophecy. They had been trying to make sure sure she was being kept as safe as possible. Now…now the future of the universe was becoming unclear and teetering on the edge of being rewritten.

"How long do we have before all of this comes to a head?" He asked.

"My source said about a month, plus a day. I guess Frieza is planning on killing her the day after Vegeta leaves. I'm guessing his wary about Vegeta's power level. We've known for some time that he kept Vegeta close out of fear."

"If that's the case, then Vegeta will have some kind of negative reaction to being double crossed. Was there any word on how he was going to be handled?"

Artiria looked at her hands as she wrung them nervously in front of her. "They're sending him on a suicide mission. Frieza's elite will be stationed to ambush him and end the former Prince."

Hearken looked at her in disbelief. How in the worlds were they going to pull this off? As he feared, Hearken had the sinking suspicion that they had intervened too much. "We have a month to formulate a new strategy. Tell our informant to keep communication open. If anything should change, we are to be informed immediately."

"Yes, sir." Artiria left Hearkens office to make the call.


	14. Chapter 14

_I do not own DBZ_

* * *

Fighting through the fogginess of the sedative, Bulma attempted to sit up. With great effort, she forced her arms to move as she made herself sit upright. She moved slowly, expecting to feel the now accustomed bursts of pain across her back. As she shifted she braced herself against the rush of agony but there was none. Based on the perfect organization, wall color and furniture orientation she quickly knew that she was back in Vegeta's room. Her little cot was gone and she was on his bed.

Rolling her shoulders back, she gritted her teeth as she tested her threshold of movement. Again, she felt nothing.

"What the hell?" she muttered to herself. Pushing herself up and off of the bed she walked to the bathroom. She was dressed in a garment that resembled a hospital gown. As she turned to see her reflection she was relieved that the back was closed unlike the ones back home. Pulling it off over her head, she held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Moving her head to look over her shoulder she peeked through one narrowly opened eyelid. Nothing was there. She released her breath and opened both eyes in disbelief.

"_Impossible,_" she whispered as she turned away from the mirror.

Rubbing her eyes, she turned to look at the mirror again. Reflecting back were old scars from previous inflictions. Not a mark from Zarbon's last attack marred her skin. Strange giggles bubbled from her as she stared at herself. She was in shock from the lack of injury that should be there. Once her laughing subsided she walked to the closet leaving the sterile, medicine-smelling garment on the floor. She opened it and dug out one of the more comfortable button down shirts she was accustomed to wearing here. Digging through a drawer at the bottom, she found a pair of the bottoms she had stashed before she left. Just in case. Feeling more settled she reached her arms above her and arched into a long, deep stretch as stiff muscles protested the movement.

The door to the room opened, startling her. The figure in the doorway twisted her stomach into pure hatred. Vegeta's presence had her sidestepping to the far side of the bed, using it as a non-threatening obstacle between them. Stalking into the room, she noted the gashes and injuries he had before had disappeared like hers. He wore a fresh set of clothes with a new, sleeker, chest guard. This one lacked the shoulder and hip coverings that he had on before. His eyes had the same coldness, the same determination. Instead of the dark intense blackness from before, they were back to their normal brown. She returned his glare with one of her own. Knowing the only way she could get away from him was to go through him, she decided to stand her ground instead. She squared up her shoulders and jutted her chin out. It might not be a possibility to run from him, but she was going to try and show him that she wasn't afraid of him.

He walked to the foot of the bed and stopped. She watched as his eyes wandered over her. Not hungry and lustful like the others on the ship. His lingering gaze seemed more focused on what she was clothed in instead of what was hidden underneath. She felt herself heat in mild embarrassment realizing that she was wearing his shirt.

"We have business to discuss," he said as he took a seat on the bed, indicating that she was to kneel before him.

Reluctantly she obeyed, unsure of the consequence he would give if she decided staying put was a much better option. The carefully chosen word of discussion meant she would have a chance to express an opinion in whatever he wanted to talk about. It intrigued her enough to choose self-preservation over blatant defiance. She made sure her back was straight and kept her eyes as forward as she was willing to risk. Her gaze settled on the tan bands in his hand as he rolled them through his fingers.

"I am going to explain to you the new roll that you may choose to have on this ship." He addressed her. "I expect you to listen to what I have to say, without interruption, until I am finished. When I am done, you will be allowed to ask any questions that you may have. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." She responded. Her stomach fluttered at the idea that she would be allowed to voice her actual opinion about something, even if it was through questions.

"You have permission to look at me when I speak to you. There's nothing I find more annoying than talking to the top of someone's head." He said.

Again, she replied "Yes sir," as she shifted her gaze up to his. Being this close to him and looking into his face sent another surge of anger towards him. She watched as he intently looked at her.

"It has become obvious that Zarbon has a personal goal of killing you," he began. "If I hadn't intervened on your behalf, twice, then you would not be alive and able to have this conversation. Although a number of the soldiers on this ship find your physical make-up to be alluring, the poise and polish that should complement such appearances are severely lacking. This, again, is a well-known fact which has made a number of the men, and a handful of women, take interest in the challenge of breaking your mouthy-ness. Already knowing your limited track record, if Zarbon doesn't kill you first then the frustration you seem to provoke that the others will experience will surely be your end. I'm not sure if this is the unpleasantly short road you would like to take for your existence."

* * *

Vegeta watched her as he paused to let his words sink in. She looked away from him to gather her thoughts. He allowed her the moment to do so. Based on what Nappa had told him about the rumors floating around the ship, she was completely oblivious to the path of hell she had put herself on. Although he was impressed by her tenacity when he startled her upon entering the room, it was that same attitude and courage that would get her killed. He knew the threat would be a smart tactic to get her to agree to take what he had to offer her into consideration before he would resort to force. When she looked back up at him, her obvious hatred of him was replaced with contemplative thought. He knew he had her attention.

"I will offer you guardianship from myself and my three comrades if you agree to help me with a personal conquest I've been striving to achieve since before my time working under Frieza. My people, the saiyan race, had a legend of a super-being. One that held more power than any other that existed in the universe. It is my quest to become this Super Saiyan of legend so that I may avenge the death of my planet and all that existed on it. It is your so-claimed knowledge of science that can help me achieve my goal. If you choose to accept, I will guarantee your survival on the ship."

A trouble expression crossed her face as she thought about his offer. Quietly she responded, "May I ask some questions?"

"You may." He allowed.

"What if I agree to try and help you on this goal of yours and I end up not being able to fulfill a legend that may or may not exist? What happens to me then?"

He smiled at her insightful question. "If your efforts fail, I will spare you the torture you will endure at the hands of others and be merciful with your end. That is if, and only if, you show impeccable effort. It is more than a legend. It is an actuality that occurs once every one thousand years according to our history. Since there are only four known saiyans left in existence, the chances of it happening are more likely than you may think."

He heard her swallow hard at his response. She looked away from him and down at her hands twisted in her lap. He saw a slight shiver course through her body as his words hit home.

"If you are protecting me, then what I am supposed to do when I'm not trying to turn you into a super-person?" She kept her eyes down, voice quivering with the heaviness of an impossible task thrown before her.

"Super _Saiyan. _You will continue to perform your morning and afternoon duties. When you are finished, you will report back here instead of completing your evening obligations of providing a distraction to the others on the ship. You will spend your time either with me or developing something to allow me to reach my goal." He was impressed with her ability to change the subject. It was well executed.

"How will you…" her voice trailed off as her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What if Zarbon finds me when you're not around?"

"Ah, an excellent question." He allowed a smile to slip through his serious expression. The thought of seeing Zarbon's face when he discovered her ownership was enough for him to hope he would be present for it. He held up the leather cuffs. "These cuffs are the mark of ownership, which is backed by Frieza. Only he is allowed to grant the ability to have personal slaves. If Zarbon, or anyone else on the ship, ignores the warning sign of the cuffs then it will be the last choice they ever make. Wearing these is an announcement that you can only be touched by me. You will be required to respect and act like any typical slave if you are given an order of basic service. If you disobey or fail to complete the request with the finesse expected, it will be reported to me and you will be punished by my hand or if I allow someone to step in on my behalf."

The color drained from her face as her eyes grew wide with fear. It was apparent that she was reliving the torture she was forced to endure by his hand from earlier. As her breathing grew raspy and her pupils started to dilate, he recognized she was moments away from a panic attack.

"Listen," he said sharply. The command in his voice was enough to pull her out of the hysterical spiral she was teetering on falling down. She looked at him as he spoke, "I will work with you to help you be more…poised…when being addressed and doing errands for others. There are other ways, besides drawing blood, that are just as effective in making you think twice before your mouth works before your brain can stop it."

His words sank in as her shoulders relaxed with understanding. He was careful not to promise to never harm her by marring that milky white skin, but instead gave her some comfort in knowing that she wouldn't push him to that point unless it was absolutely necessary.

"So I help you with becoming super-strength man and you will help me…not die?" She clarified.

"_Super Saiyan._ Yes, you have my word that I will do everything within my power to make sure that you will…not die…at the hands of anyone on the ship while you help me." The corner of his mouth lifted with her wording.

He was careful when he chose the words he used to explain the trade he was willing to agree to. It was his hope that being as direct and clear as possible would allow them to move past her memory of him from earlier and allow him some firm ground to make their scene more believable to Frieza. As long as the woman had the possible knowledge to help him seek revenge for his people, he would protect her for as long as he could. Before sitting down to this discussion, he had already decided he was not going to tell her about their expected performance. He would inform her of that later, if needed. If she figured out how to unlock the illusive secret of the Super Saiyan before then, she would be useless and her safety will no longer be his concern or obligation.

"Okay." She whispered with a hint of sadness. "I will help you."

He held out his hand, palm up as he looked at her expectantly. She stared at it for a moment before she realized the unspoken command for her hand. Gingerly, she lifted it from the tangle of fingers on her lap and held it towards him. She allowed it to hover over his as an internal battle raged with uncertainty. He knew it was one thing to talk about terms and conditions. The act of accepting them, however, always held more weight than words alone. With a final sigh, she lowered her hand into his in defeat.

The smoothness of her skin was mesmerizing. He rubbed his thumb over the top of her hand, entranced by its smoothness. The light color was a striking contrast against his olive skin tone. He understood how difficult it would be for her to place her hand in his. Feeling the light weight of her hand made him realize the weight of his promised responsibility towards her. His head spun as it hit him with full force. Such beauty and spirit that got her into so much trouble with Zarbon was now, willingly, giving her control to him. Despite how he had pushed her, tortured her, he was astounded that she put enough merit in his words to come through with his promise. Suddenly his thought of her being dispensable sat in his stomach like a heavy ball of lead.

Keeping his composure smooth and his demeanor focused on business, he latched the soft leather onto her wrist. Indicating for the other, she placed it in his hand with little hesitation. He secured the second cuff and placed her hand back in her lap. She looked down at them as her fingers grazed over their softness. He watched as she slipped a finger underneath, an almost hidden smile spread across her face as she felt the decadently soft fur. She looked back up at him with gratitude. The knowledge that, for now, she was safe visibly brightened her mood.

"Kakarot is outside and will escort you back to your room. Your morning duties are only a couple hours away so you still have time to rest up. Tomorrow evening, you are to report back…and make sure you wear what you have on, too. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." she said, happy enthusiasm warmed her voice.

He nodded her dismissal. He watched as she eagerly stood and headed towards the door. Before walking out, she turned back and looked at him. "Sir…thank you."

She disappeared beyond the threshold as he stared after her in disbelief.


	15. Chapter 15

_I do not own DBZ_

* * *

The tall, almost floppy haired man leading the way to her room did not seem to have any want with engaging her in conversation. In their short walk she learned that he worked under Vegeta and his name was, indeed, Kakarot. Although his face appeared to be the friendliest out of the three so-called saiyans she had seen thus far, he appeared to be visibly troubled. He didn't look at her directly but he seemed uncomfortable when he saw the bands around her wrists. Normally she wouldn't be satisfied with such quiet demeanor with meeting someone new but right now she was too distracted by her own happiness to force a conversation.

Although she was now working with Vegeta, the promise of constructively using her resourcefulness put a rare spring in her step. She refused to acknowledge that he owned her, fat chance she'll ever allow herself to be _owned_ by anyone, but to know that she had an invisible bubble of protection strong enough to keep Zarbon and the newly discovered others at bay helped her breathe a little easier. As much as she loathed Vegeta, she couldn't pass on the opportunity of protection _and_ to get herself into a lab of some sorts. He wanted her to use her science to help him achieve some mythological creature of his people but she couldn't help thinking he was delusional. Super beings, saiyans or not, just couldn't exist. Agreeing to help him with his obscure fantasy, however, meant she would need to use some kind of lab. She could curb her hatred for access to a lab. A lab meant developing and building her planned diversion to get back home. Right now, home meant everything to her. He was using her as a means to an end so it seemed only fitting to return the favor. He just didn't know he agreed to help her, too. That's what prompted her in thanking him. With his offer he inadvertently gave her a means to escape. Even if her animosity towards him was strong, she couldn't help but feel a small amount of gratitude.

Her escort stopped next to her door. "Anything else you need before I leave you?"

"No, I don't think so." She said. "Thank you for walking with me, I think I can manage from here."

He eyed her one last time before walking away. As she watched him go, she caught him shaking his head. Confused, she shrugged and went inside. Her small room was a welcomed comfort to her. Excited by the new task at hand, she went to her hiding places to dig out the scouter and drive. She plopped down on her bed as she held the two devices. With a swift _click_ the drive was in the side and the scouter was blinking to life. Putting it on, the hologram keyboard popped up. With a deep breath she began typing in the encryption codes she needed to stay undetected. Numbers and letters scrolled along the little screen as she developed her program. Within minutes, it was finished.

Satisfied that her signal would be bounced around enough that it wouldn't be traced back to her, she activated the scouter to the network. Quickly searching through files and databases she tried to pinpoint the import/export and flight schedules. It was hidden better than she had expected. As she dug deeper for several minutes, she could feel her heart racing against her chest. _Gotta be here…gotta be here,_ she kept repeating to herself as she felt herself panicking. _Too long, I'm running out of time_. A red light appeared in the corner of the screen. Not knowing what it meant, she assumed it didn't signal anything good. A few pages more and she found what she was looking for. Scanning over the information, she found a date where there were no vessels scheduled to fly to or from the ship. As she started backing out of the programs and masking her trail the red light started blinking.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit…" She muttered to herself, trying not to panic as the blinking sped up. Something was programmed in a waiting protocol to detect a breach and it was zeroing in on her. With a flurry of code, she honed in on an open scouter and rerouted her signal through it. She disconnected form the network, ended her program, ripped the scouter from her face and shut it down. Throwing it on the bed she stared at it like it was going to grow teeth and bite her. She thought her first hack into the network went undetected. Now she knew that was far from what actually happened. Someone or something must have discovered the breach and developed a watchdog program for if and when it happened again. Her good mood crushed, she put her devices back in their hiding places. She was trembling as she started pacing around in her room, too worried to get a few hours of sleep before her shift. At the least, she had her plan and she had her date of escape. In a little more than a month, it wouldn't matter if her breach was detected or not. She was going to get off of this ship one way or another.

* * *

_Fire crackled in the background as another blast shook the walls. The smell of burnt flesh and fresh blood hung heavy in the air as the world grew hazy from the smoke. The normal red of the sky had turned into a deep black as orange reflections danced on its hazy surface. In the distance there were yells of war and of terror. The gates of hell had finally broken free as demons spilled out of the holes, killing everything in their wake. _

_He hugged his mother tightly as she flew through the palace corridors. She held him securely against her chest. Her warmth mingled with her and his baby brother's heartbeats gave him some feeling of comfort to help block out the familiar voices of servants and nobles now mutated into screams of agony. Flying like a spirit in the night, she followed the maze of hidden tunnels and bypasses until the smell of flowers from the gardens could be detected under the scent of horror and death. Daring to open his eyes, he looked over his mother's shoulder and towards the heavens. He watched in awe as his father and a white figure chased each other in the sky, explosions detonating around them both. There was a pause in their battle as he saw them face each other. Suddenly, the white figure started to grow larger._

_In a panic, he mother set him down by a large piece of marble that lay haphazardly against a chunk of concrete dislodged from underground. A small opening formed in the gap between the two._

"_Getta, sweetie, I need you to be brave for mommy, okay?" Her whispered voice shook. She was bent over him, her face inches away from his. "Do you see that opening over there? Mommy and daddy need you to hide until we come and get you."_

_He wildly shook his head no. Reaching out for her, his eyes started to well up with tears. "No mommy! I want to fight! Daddy said I am the strongest boy on the grounds. I can protect you and daddy!"_

_He watched as her eyes filled with tears. Sweeping him into a hug, he felt himself being crushed against her as she held him. "I know baby, I know." She mumbled into his hair. "This is a grown-up fight though, and daddy will be awfully mad if you got involved. You don't want daddy to be disappointed in you, do you?"_

"_No mommy." He answered. _

_Pulling him away from her, she held him by the shoulders. "Then make mommy and daddy proud and hide for us, okay?"_

_He nodded reluctantly. _

"_We love you, baby." Her voice cracked as she choked back tears. "Never forget that."_

"_I know." He replied. _

_She kissed him on the forehead and ruffled his hair in her usual sign of affection. At her nudge, he followed her directions and hid. Moments after he was situated enough to be able to see out, the white figure from the sky landed on the ground. He was tall like his mom, but all a shimmering white with a weird shiny purple helmet poking out of his skin. There were other patches of matching purple on his stomach, shins and forearms. A tale much thicker and heavier looking then his own waved in the air._

_His father landed next to his mother who was standing between the white lizard-man and his hiding place. He couldn't hear anything they were saying but his dad started to attack. Blasts shook the ground as they dodged and grappled. Suddenly everything stopped. His dad hovered unmoving. Almost in slow motion he fell with a sickening thud, a pool of red seeping out from under him._

_The white figure walked towards his mother and his hiding place. He heard his mother's snarl as she sprang at him. She attacked in a fury, movements signaling utter desperation unlike his father's calculated moves. A thin beam of light left the creature's hand and through her chest. A shrill scream echoed as she fell backwards. An evil cackle filled the air as the man stepped on her throat, forcing her head to twist in his direction. _

_Pain, remorse, fear…all present as she gazed through the opening and to him. She mouthed to words 'I'm sorry' to him. A gut wrenching crunch echoed in his ears as her throat collapsed under the weight. Her gaze filled with such love, such desperation, seconds ago were now changed. Lifeless. Dull. Unblinking as they glazed over while staring past him. _

_Sadness ripped through him as his mother's and father's bodies lay unmoving on the ground. Hatred pulsed through his veins as the maniacal laughing continued. His family was dead. The smell of death confirmed that his kind was perishing. He had nothing. No mother, no father, no baby brother. His eyes squeezed shut as he held back his tears. He would never hear his mother's laughter again. His father's laughter would no longer echo through the halls as he expressed his pride in him. Anger started to grab hold, transforming into rage as he thought of the figure that took all of that away from him. _

_He screamed out as he rushed from hiding as his vision blurred with tears. Energy sporadically pulsed around him as an odd shimmer enveloped him. Holding his little hands out in front, he threw ki blast after ki blast at the white lizard man as dust from the blasts rained down overhead… _

Coughing, Vegeta sat up from his bed with a start. Eyes wide open and panicked, he looked around the room waiting for an invisible threat to come barreling down on him. Instead of a figure springing towards him in the darkness he heard the soft sprinkling of dust around him. He got out of bed and turned on the light to reveal white dust covering his bed. The ceiling had a hole in it that almost breached through to the other side. Looking over his arms and chest, he realized that he must've lost control in his sleep and destroyed the ceiling while he dreamt of trying to kill Frieza. Hands shaking, he ran them through his hair as he tried to dislodge the remnants of the ceiling from it.

It took several minutes before his heart had stopped racing. It took even longer for his eyes to stop darting in every direction while expecting an unseen intruder to manifest and try to overpower him. Breathing finally slowing down, he sat on his bed as he held his head in his hands. His body was drenched in sweat. His lungs burned from the ceiling dust as his chest heaved to take in more oxygen. He couldn't get his hands to stop shaking. The energy blasts that left his hands during his nightmare burned the palm of his skin from the intensity. Everything ached inside and out.

He thought of his encounter with the purple haired woman. Her smug face flashed before his eyes. _She did this to me_, his mind raged. _She made these memories start all over again. I haven't had to relive that moment for decades._

It took him years to get the flashbacks of that night to stop. It took him even longer to rid himself of the memory altogether. Whenever he attempted to think about that day, the sadness crashed into him like a rogue wave. Now he burned inside. Burned to kill someone, anyone. To make them feel the same horror he had to live through. To watch as he controlled the life that slipped away, not someone else. The feeling pulsated in him so strongly that he could almost taste the metallic smell of death he craved. He was stuck on the ship. There was no one here to risk killing. Instead he took deep breath after deep breath as he forced himself to push down his anger and lock it away.

He'd take his anger out later in the simulation room. He'd revive it as he showed the woman his power so she could figure out a way to stretch him beyond his limits and closer to killing Frieza once and for all. With that goal in mind, he got up from the bed to take a shower and start his day. He had a brat to oversee in a bit.


	16. Chapter 16

_I do not own DBZ._

* * *

"Look, I'm not trying to tell you what to do." Raditz held his hands up in defense at Vegeta's glare. "I'm just suggesting you think about what you're doing. Is it really worth the trouble?"

Raditz sat across from him at the table in a corner and out of earshot of the others in the dining hall. Vegeta was visibly irritated at the conversation, but it was obvious to him that Raditz wasn't going to back down. After last night, he was _not_ in the mood for this conversation.

"I don't understand how you think it isn't. If she has working scientific knowledge then what better place to have her?" Vegeta sighed as he sat back with his arms crossed. He squeezed his biceps with his fingers to keep from making a scene by slamming his fist through the tabletop. He detested being questioned about his actions and his moodiness was difficult to control right now. "You heard what Nappa said about the interest she has gained on the ship. Match that with Zarbon's motives and she's a sitting duck with that mouth of hers. If she can help unlock it then what harm can it do? If she is incapable of coming through, she'll be offed. No different outcome than if I would have done nothing in the first place."

"I just don't like it." Raditz's eyes studied Bulma as she wound through the tables dropping off meals and cleaning off tables. "None of us do. I can't hold my tongue anymore. I know my place but…"

Vegeta allowed his eyes to follow his comrade's as he watched the blue haired spitfire walk around the room. As she traveled, a number of those she was walking past took visible notice to the new decorations adorning her wrists. A few brave souls, with enough brains to make the connection, pitifully tried to hide their glances in his direction. Nothing was hidden on this ship for long. Rumors, both laden in fact and fantasy, whipped through the ranks like a wildfire in a drought-stricken forest. In-between assignments, there was little to do. Train, eat, sleep, drink and fuck. To keep themselves occupied, those waiting for their next deployment created gossip. It had its own pulse underneath the typical show of ego, strength and power. Just another way for one buffoon to try and outdo another. For those who might not have the strength to match rivals and opponents, they tried to cut them at the knees with hearsay to provoke an outcome from higher up. If anyone wanted to know what was going on in the ship, all they had to do was ask someone else. Just as long as they kept in mind that the truth would need some dissecting from over-indulging. Nappa almost always knew what the latest word on the ship was. He thrived on the drama. Thanks to his continuing actions towards the new member of the 'help', Vegeta's name was frequently in the swirling vortex of conversations. Nappa had no need to go find information since the chatter was finding him these days.

"If you know your place, then I don't understand why we are having this conversation." He allowed his irritation to flow in his unspoken warning to Raditz that his patience was waning.

"You've just been…different lately. Ever since you came back from the exchange you've not been yourself. I'm not sure what happened after the city you finished off but we've all picked up on the change. She's more of a distraction than a solution and I'm not sure you see it that way." Raditz changed his gaze back to Vegeta. "All three of us just want you to be careful."

Vegeta stared across the hall, not focusing on anything in particular. Although Raditz was Kakarot's brother, Vegeta always felt like Raditz could be his, too. He was always the even keel of wisdom, making him far older than his years. He put a lot of merit in Raditz's interpretations and views with his perceptiveness. He was more apt in reading nuances and a keen sense of intuition compared to the other two. Vegeta kept him closer than the others because he was more trustworthy and reliable than self-interest alone.

He allowed Raditz's words to reach him, unnerved by the warning. Nappa, Kakarot and his concern needed to have reached a boiling point for him to risk the fallout of voicing their concerns. What was more sobering was that Vegeta had the same fears himself. He chose to ignore his own intuition that had been signaling a warning from the moment he stopped Zarbon's torture the first time. He couldn't explain why he acted without thinking with her.

"Are you telling me that Nappa, Kakarot and you are incapable of looking after her when needed?" He wanted a better understanding of their loyalty. From what he was hearing, there was a good possibility they would take the opportunity to get rid of the 'distraction' if need be.

A long pause hung between them.

"No." Raditz finally responded with heavy reluctance as he recognized Vegeta's challenge. "We will do our due diligence and uphold the loyalties of the crown and to you. We will look out for her as if she was one of ours if you so wish."

Both men sat without speaking as Bulma approached them, two trays of food in hand. With a dramatically deep curtsey, she set them on the table and scurried away before either of them had a chance to offer a reprimand.

"Then again, she might end up growing on me." Raditz smiled after her as he chuckled. "She's definitely going to be a handful, I'll give you that."

Vegeta gave a snort of dissatisfaction even though his eyes danced in amusement. Despite whatever hells she had experienced before their chance meeting, she still kept a piece of her true self intact. She'll pay for the disrespect, playful or not. He would be sure to hold steady on his promise of teaching her poise and tact. There was a time and a place for playfulness. A room full of people was neither the time nor the place. The perfect opportunity seemed to manifest in front of him as a green color caught his eye. Zarbon had just entered and had his sights set on her, not noticing the signal she wore to back off.

* * *

Bulma was giggling to herself as she walked away from the table. She wanted to brighten her mood and was proud of herself that she found the perfect opportunity. The idea to exaggerate the 'ownership' portion of their deal hit her when she caught him and his friend watching her. She chose the curtsey, thinking it a nice touch if he, indeed, was a prince. The man at the table resembled Kakarot more than the balding one and Vegeta. He also seemed more approachable. Kakarot looked friendlier but after his unwillingness to hold a conversation with her, she wasn't sure if she trusted him. This burly, long-haired man seemed much more trustworthy. Add the serious conversation she interrupted between the two men and she could tell that Vegeta trusted him, too. It looked like conversation flowed much easier with him than the stiff orders he gave the other two when he handed her off to them. They seemed more uneasy in her presence then this man did.

As she bent over to wipe a table off, she felt a rough caress brush against her buttocks. The low hum of satisfaction that followed froze any urge to turn around and tell the offender off. The sound of the voice made a cold, clammy sweat break out across her skin. Forcing herself to stand upright, she turned to face Zarbon. His eyes flashed a hateful gold as they narrowed in a silent reminder of his deadly promise.

"Can I help you?" She squeaked out, not nearly as filled with venom as she had hoped. She cursed herself for being caught too off guard the muster the ability to talk back to him. She cringed as he brushed a few rogue strands of hair away from her face. She wasn't sure if she was flinching from worry that he was going to strike her or the feel of his touch against her skin.

"Just appreciating the view..." He crooned. He bent in closer, lips inches away from her ear. In a low, breathy voice he added, "…and remembering last night."

She took a step back as bile rose in her throat. This time, she straightened up as she glared at him. Finally recovered from the shock of his unwelcomed presence, she was no longer frozen in place. She was mindful of the curious eyes around them watching their exchange.

"I believe you and I have _extremely_ different opinions of last night." She spat out. "If you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

She attempted to step past him instead of choosing backing up in retreat. As she walked by he reached out and gripped her arm, halting her movement. His fingered tightened like a vice. She held her arm still instead of giving in to the instinct of trying to jerk free. She looked at him with pure hatred. His face reflected the same sentiment. A hush fell over the room. Despite the attention they now held, she didn't back down.

"If you don't mind, _sir_, you are preventing me from my duties." She said.

"I believe you have something that belongs to me, Zarbon." A voice behind her loudly spoke, warning dripping in every word. She felt a wave of relief as she recognized it to be Vegeta's.

"And what do you mean by that?" Zarbon replied, breaking his stare to shift his attention behind her. His brows lifted in surprise as he realized they were now the center of attention.

"I'm going to assume that you didn't have the opportunity to notice the woman's cuffs." She heard a whisper of amusement in Vegeta's voice. Straining against Zarbon's grip, she tried to look over her shoulder at him. Her angle was off, putting him just out of sight. The man that Vegeta was sitting with was clearly visible standing next to him, however. His face reflected the amusement in Vegeta's voice.

Feeling her arm being painfully jerked, she looked at Zarbon as he roughly pulled her arm behind her to better see her wrist. Her back involuntarily arched from the movement. She was held like that for a moment before she felt herself forcefully thrown backwards. Already off-balance from the awkward position, she wasn't able to find her footing. The man grabbed her before she made contact with the floor. Shocked, she stared up at him. He winked back as he put her back on her feet.

"My mistake." Zarbon replied. "My statement from last night still stands. In case you're wondering, I always find my way around…deterrents."

She watched as he turned and walked away. In the dining hall, the buzzing from the lights was the only sound.

"Your shift is over. We'll start our evening early." Vegeta finally stated. Despite being sandwiched between the two as they walked, she felt more safe than confined. Those that were in their path quickly moved aside as they exited. The reaction from the others intrigued her to look up at her escorts. They exuded a confidence she hadn't experienced too frequently by those either in the hall or from a brief passing. Powerful. Confident. Proud. Regal. It was no wonder everyone took notice to the exchange in the room. She guessed that it quieted down as soon as these two approached her and Zarbon.

The lack of conversation as they walked through the now unfamiliar halls was too much for her to take. Didn't these people ever talk? Feeling the urge to break the silence, she decided to try and acknowledge their help.

"Thanks for getting rid of Zarbon for me, sirs." She said sheepishly. She was unsure how she was supposed to address them with her agreed upon promotion – if you could call it that – from _ship slave_ to _Vegeta's slave_.

"This time, the situation you found yourself in was not entirely your fault." Vegeta said. The other man suppressed a chuckle.

Turning to him as they walked, she looked at the husky man. "My name is Bulma. May I ask what name you would like me to call you?" Putting more sweetness in her voice than usual, she earned a quizzical eyebrow raise form Vegeta.

_See? I know how behave_, she thought.

"You may call me Raditz." He answered in a deep baritone voice. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

A bright smile flashed across her face. His formality was such an odd contrast to the way everyone spoke to her anymore. It was nice to be addressed as a normal person instead of property. Both of the men looked at her oddly. Exchanging a look, Raditz continued to entertain her in conversation while Vegeta tensed and looked ahead. Something without words was exchanged between the two of them, putting Vegeta noticeably on edge.

"Where are you from?" Raditz asked.

"A planet called Earth." She couldn't stop the hint of sadness attached to her words. "It was a beautiful place. Clear blue skies, green grass, life everywhere…simply gorgeous."

"Yes, I am familiar with that planet." He replied after some thought. "Seems we did a scheduled stop there a while back. Shortly after it was sold to the Planet Trade Organization, if I recall correctly."

"Really? You've been there?" The sudden excitement in her voice earned her a smile from him. "Was there…did you find anything interesting?"

"Unfortunately, we do not go to planets to _find_ anything, although we do come across different places that spark our interest from time to time. We're more like Special Forces. We're there for support if needed." She could tell that he was picking his words carefully. If his 'special forces' was anything close to her definition of the same title, that meant disabling a threat. Worst case scenario meant extermination.

The whole idea of going back home started to lose its shimmer. What, exactly, would she be going home to? Shaking her head, she tried to rid the visual of death and despair littering her home planet. The scouter incident came flooding back, further compounding her sadness. Maybe she would be better off staying here instead of going home. The file in Vegeta's room indicated there were still people there, though. Hostile. Fighting for what was theirs. Could she turn her back on them? Consciously decide they were not worth fighting for? No, she had to help. Maybe she could get her hands on some information to take back with her to give them the upper hand. She looked forward to going home, but somehow didn't realize the _home_ she was trying to get back to would be filled with war and suppression. She was so blinded by her end goal, she never thought about what the end goal might actually look like now.

She didn't realize she was lost in thought until they stopped in front of a large glass door. A loud noise growled from her stomach. Embarrassed, she looked at the ground. "Sorry about that."

"Raditz, go grab some food for her." Vegeta finally spoke, a small smile playing at the corner of his eyes. "It seems we pulled her from her duties in the hall and forgot to let her get lunch."

"It would be my pleasure." Raditz said as he left them to scrounge up something for her to munch on.

Vegeta punched in his code and the glass door unlocked. He opened it, indicating her to follow. Surrounding her was one of the most high-tech weight rooms she'd ever seen. Deciding to walk around by herself to take it all in, she slowly circled the room. She gawked at the giant heavy bags hanging in a corner. Free weights of indescribable sizes lined one area of the room. Odd weight machines somewhat similar to the ones back home were scattered around the room. An empty area that resembled a boxing ring took up the center of the room. Cables hung from the ceiling, some had blinking lights while others hung lifelessly. In the back there were glass doors that appeared to lead into other, larger, rooms. Taking it all in, she couldn't believe any being could make use of the equipment, although her opinion was biased and solely based on human limitations.

"Welcome to one of the places that you will frequent often." Vegeta explained after giving her time to wander around and take everything in. "You will normally find me here if I'm not off-ship or in my room."

"Is this where you stayed while I was with you?" She asked. Turning to look at him with a new understanding of the strength behind his muscular physique, she realized she spoke out of turn. Not sure how she was supposed to act, she felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. "Um, sorry sir. What I mean is…ah..."

She watched as his face hardened into a more serious expression. Based on the subtle change of his attitude, she figured the relaxed exchange she was enjoying on the way here was over. _Time to get back to business_, she thought.

"Because I did not set parameters of how you are to speak to me outside of more crowded areas, I will allow your question to slide. Although I find proper slave protocol to be annoying, I did agree to help you understand your role here a bit better. Because of your minor infraction in the mess hall, I believe we can start the process now." His words felt icy compared to how he spoke moments before.

Recalling her dramatic curtsey from earlier, her face grew hotter. Maybe she shouldn't have tried to be funny. _Oh well, too late now._ Silently cursing herself for yet another oversight, she felt her happy mood deflate completely. Earth, at this point, was probably in tattered shambles. The thought of her getting caught snooping around with the scouter hung heavily on her mind. Now in hindsight, her curtsey was probably seen as a disrespectful slap in the face to the man that agreed to, and followed through on, protecting her. Her mood shifted into self-loathing as she stood waiting to hear what horror of a punishment she would have to endure now.


End file.
